


we got you in our sights (but you smiled at the scope)

by sobsicles



Category: Leverage
Genre: Eliot cooks a lot, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Pining, Plot Twists, Sort Of, a canon rewrite of sorts, a case fic, also the author tries their best at the whole case shenangins, but they need him now, except when she doesnt, give them a break they tried, hardison is well rounded enough to just accept the falling in love part, hardison never joined the team, it goes about as smoothly as you can imagine, parker really tries to face her feelings, reads like an episode, slight angst, so its up to eliot and parker to con him into joining, sophie and nate are the team parents, the procupines are eliot and parker btw, they go on a heist for a date, two porcupines fall in love reluctantly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:08:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21811948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobsicles/pseuds/sobsicles
Summary: They've been working without the best hacker in the world for long enough that Eliot can't really see the point in bringing him on the team. But what Nate wants, he gets, and Nate wants Hardison's help on this. It's up to Eliot and Parker to draw him in, but they don't expect him to catch them along the way.~~~Eliot realizes they have a problem, but he's not sure how to voice it. The thing is...Hardison is just so nice. For the world's best hacker, he's an all around good guy, and there's an innocence to him. Like the horrors of the world haven't been able to reach him.Parker looks up at him and Eliot knows what passes between them. Concern. They can't pull off this con if they end up wanting to protect the mark. That's not how these things work. And yet."We can't tell Nate," Parker whispers.Eliot nods. "Sophie can never know."
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 110
Kudos: 400





	we got you in our sights (but you smiled at the scope)

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, because I don't do anything by halves, I've pretty much thrown myself into writing for this fandom with vigor. I don't really have an excuse; I just love this team and this pairing so much. 
> 
> A disclaimer: I am not, as wild as it may seem, an actual theif. Nor am I a bad person who enjoys ruining lives for my own personal gain. So, how this case goes and plays out leans into how the show has handled it before, but probably has some misinformation and obvious errors. Please do forgive me for that, as I don't actually know how to be a horrible person. Thank you. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Eliot doesn't like this. 

"I don't like this, Nate," he says, pausing on the edge of the building and peering around the corner. 

The mark heads inside the little cafe with a booming laugh, his smile wide. Eliot flicks his gaze around, checking for any possible guards, but it seems that their mark isn't exactly worried. A mistake, clearly, but it works in their favor. 

"You've said that, Eliot," Nate replies calmly, and Sophie releases a huff of annoyance. "Don't look at me like that, Sophie. This is essential to the job." 

"We never do this," Parker puts in, and Eliot tips his head back to watch her walk alongside the roof like the bag of crazy she is. "We have done  _ every  _ job without this; we don't need it, not now and not ever." 

"Well, Parker," Nate mutters, "things change." 

"Why didn't we outsource like we did with the other jobs?" Eliot growls, dipping his head as he ducks around the building to casually walk past the windows and scope out their mark. 

"Because, for this job, we need the best," Nate tells them with just a hint of finality in his tone; he's clearly about to end the discussion. 

"And you're sure this has nothing to do with your ego?" Sophie challenges. "We could have managed this job without going to these measures." 

"No, Sophie, we  _ couldn't  _ have." Nate makes a small sound of frustration. "Look, you guys have to trust me, okay? Stop fighting this and focus. Parker, as of now, what's your status?" 

Parker doesn't miss a beat. "Checked the records of the store. He's been here once a week for the past six months. The camera feeds are agreeing. He comes in, does stuff on his laptop, then leaves." 

"Good. That's good. Eliot?" 

"He doesn't have any background in fighting, not from what I can tell. He's built, but not stacked. The type to work out for the sake of looking good." 

"Oh," Sophie says lightly, "and does he?" 

Eliot scowls and loops back around the building, slowing his steps. "How would I know? I'm not looking. What now, Nate?" 

"Wait, guys." Parker makes a small sound of distress, a fluttering noise of nervousness that has Eliot picking up his pace in response. "The week before we got into town, he was here, meeting with Hawthorn. It--it looks like they got into an argument, then Hawthorn left." 

"Now, tell me, why would our mark be in a tiff with our  _ other  _ mark?" Nate asks in the way he does when he's not actually looking for an answer. 

"Are we pulling the plug?" Eliot grunts, leaning his shoulder against the corner he started at. 

"No, no, we're sticking to the plan with minor changes. What we have to do now is find out what he wants, then give it to him," Nate tells them. 

Eliot lets loose a growl. "How in the hell are we going to find out what the best damn hacker in the world wants and then  _ give it to him?"  _

* * *

**Three Weeks Earlier**

  
  


Nate slaps the files down on the desk, slipping into his seat and sliding the copies out across the tabletop. Eliot automatically flips the file on top, staring at the picture of the older, balding white guy who is most likely rich and powerful and very deserving of whatever Nate has planned for him. After reading the file in silence, with Parker humming to his right as she does the same, he finds out that he was right. 

Marcus Hawthorn, owner of a very large food distribution company--an overgrown grocery store as Sophie likes to call it. He's apparently got his hands in a lot of pies, somehow managing both the food company and a pharmaceutical company as well. Though, his food company appears close to going under, and the smartest thing for Hawthorn to do at this point is to jump ship. 

"And that's exactly what he plans to do," Nate says, when Sophie points this out mere moments after Eliot's come to that conclusion. "What's the saying? Don't put all your eggs in one basket." 

"Why not?" Parker looks up from her file with a frown. "They'd be easier to carry that way, right?" 

"Well, yes, but if that basket gets lost, then you have no more eggs. So, what you do is keep some eggs in different baskets, that way you always have eggs," Nate explains, leaning back in his chair. 

Parker blinks. "Oh." 

"He seems to have a lot of eggs in a lot of baskets," Eliot mutters, skimming the file yet again. 

"Yes, but Hawthorn is smart." Nate stands up and moves to his liquor cabinet, pouring out a glass as he watches them. "See, what if you could give up one basket to ensure that your  _ other  _ basket gets more eggs? Who wouldn't make that sacrifice, right?" 

"A profit is a profit is a profit," Sophie murmurs, lowering the file to the table with a frown. "So, he's going to let one company go down?" 

"That's what he plans to do, yes. And in doing so, he's going to insure that his  _ other  _ company makes all those losses back, plus more." Nate takes a gulp and leans back against the bar. "Think about it, his food company is practically dust anyway. He's better off letting it go and getting away before the inevitable fallout. But he'll still be losing money." 

"He has a plan to make sure the loss is repaid in full, so what is it? Insurance fraud?" Sophie asks. 

"Oh, this will be a breeze for you, Nate," Parker chirps with a pleased smile. 

Nate's lips twitch. "If only it was that easy. No, he's going to throw one company under the bus to make sure the other one goes on the rise." 

"Wait, if one is a pharmaceutical company and the other is a food company…" Eliot trails off, his heart twisting sharply in his chest. "It's--he's going to make money off of medicine." 

"Yes," Nate confirms, nodding sharply. 

Sophie's eyes widen. "He's going to use his food to make people sick, then send them running to his other company." 

"Precisely," Nate agrees, taking another gulp. 

Parker smacks the file down with a scowl. "And my guess is that he's not going to take the fall for it. He's going to let his own employees go down instead." 

"Well," Nate says, spreading his hands open, "we're not going to let that happen." 

Sophie taps the second file. "And what's this?" 

"Ah." Nate gulps down more drink, his body tensing as he swallows. "That is a very important person who we will need to take Marcus Hawthorn down." 

Eliot flips open the file and freezes. "Alec Hardison," he blurts out, eyes snapping up to land on Nate in open anger. "You--you want to  _ hire  _ Alec Hardison?" 

"Who's Alec Hardison?" Sophie mutters, wrinkling her nose as she opens her file. 

Parker hums. "The best hacker in the entire world. He broke into the Pentagon's servers when he was only twelve. Rarely leaves a trace--he's only wanted in Iceland, but he's hit every country that the world has to offer in some way or another. There's not a database he can't hack into, not yet at least, and he's stolen as many things as I have, sometimes without ever leaving his computer. A terrible grifter, though." 

"Ah," Sophie says, "that explains why I have no idea who he is." 

"How do you know so much about him?" Eliot asks, lips tipping down as Parker stares down at the file. 

Parker flicks her gaze up to his. "When people make a name for themselves by being a thief, I tend to pay attention. I knew who you were too." 

Eliot grunts and focuses back on Nate. "This isn't his MO, Nate. He'll never take the job, and he sure as hell won't be a team player." 

"Well, that's why he's going to ask  _ us  _ if he can join in," Nate replies easily, smiling calmly. "Hawthorn isn't our only mark." 

"You want to  _ con  _ Alec Hardison?" Eliot shares a look with Sophie, who just sighs heavily. 

"We can't hire him; he'll just say no, or rob us blind. Trying to get him to join the team from our end will only leave us with a grenade in our laps. No one knows much about him, but what everyone knows for sure is that he works alone." Nate pauses to take yet another gulp of his drink, polishing it off. "What we're going to do is convince him that he wants to work with us. We have to change his mind." 

"And how do you propose we do that?" Sophie asks, raising both eyebrows. 

"No idea," Nate says cheerfully, clapping his hands together. "Let's start with recon and work from there. Eliot, Parker, you'll both take point on this. Sophie and I are a bit older than him, and he'll just be put off by it, so it's up to you." 

Eliot sighs. "This is gonna  _ suck."  _

"Let's go steal ourselves an Alec Hardison." Nate grins and winks before walking out of the room in that dramatic way of his. 

* * *

"Now, remember what I told you." 

"I  _ know,  _ Sophie," Eliot growls as he opens the door to the cafe that one Alec Hardison is waiting in. He forces himself to relax his stance and rearrange his face into something more inviting. 

"Just feel him out, get whatever information you can, but don't push too hard," Sophie says in his ear, sounding genuinely nervous. 

Eliot rolls his eyes to the ceiling.  _ "I know, Sophie."  _

Sophie tuts lightly. "Oh, Nate, I should be there." 

"Eliot has this under control," Nate tells her, his voice controlled and calm. "Parker, are you in position yet?" 

Parker hums. "Ready." 

"Alright, Eliot, go," Nate orders. 

Eliot takes a deep breath and starts walking. He pulls out his phone and waits to catch Hardison's reflection on the screen. He has to tip it down as he passes the table, but he catches sight of long, dark fingers clicking away rapidly on the keyboard of his laptop. Eliot internally rolls his eyes and lets his foot catch on the open chair at the table, stumbling to the side and tipping Hardison's coffee all over his laptop. 

"What the-- Oh, come on!" Hardison jerks away from the table as coffee pools on his keyboard and dribbles down to his lap. His eyes go wide when his laptop screen flickers and goes black. "Oh no. No, no,  _ no!"  _

Eliot reaches out and snags his shoulder. "Oh--oh my god, I'm so sorry. I--shit, I didn't mean to do that!" 

Hardison looks up with a scowl, only for his eyes to go wider, his anger melting away too quickly for Eliot's comfort. "Ah, oh, it's--I mean, it's okay, man." 

"That's not good," Sophie hisses. "Is there any chance that he knows you?" 

"Eliot, follow that thread," Nate says sharply. 

Eliot forces himself to smile apologetically. "It's not okay, it's really not. I'm so sorry. Jesus, that's--I know how expensive laptops are. I can buy you another." 

Hardison blinks rapidly and clears his throat. "I have another one. It's fine, really." 

"Hey, do I--do I know you?" Eliot asks, tilting his head as he scans Hardison from head to toe. 

"Did you see that?" Sophie murmurs. "Eliot, I want you to try something." 

"Um, I don't think so," Hardison says, fruitlessly dabbing some napkins on his laptop. His eyes flick over Eliot's form. "I think I'd remember you." 

"Flirt with him," Sophie orders. 

Eliot's smile drops. "What?" he barks. 

Hardison's eyebrows crumble together in open confusion. "What?" he echoes. 

"Just do it," Sophie snaps. "He's clearly attracted to you. He doesn't know you, he just thinks your attractive." 

"Ah, nothing, I just--I'm sorry, I really thought I recognized you from somewhere." Eliot smiles slow and warm, letting his voice drop to a lower register, shifting closer. "But I guess you're right, I don't think I'd forget a face like yours." 

That, at least, is honest. 

"Oh, he's good," Sophie murmurs. 

Eliot firmly ignores that as Hardison tosses him a bright smile. "Is that a compliment?" 

"Didn't it sound like one?" Eliot replies easily. 

Abruptly, Hardison bursts out laughing, eyes sparkling with mirth. He shakes his head and wags a finger at Eliot. "You're pretty good, I'll give you that. But hey, you don't have to bat your eyelashes at me to get out of this situation. Seriously, man, don't worry about the laptop." 

"You need to shift his focus from the laptop. Convince him you're more interested in him than the mistake you made," Sophie directs. 

Eliot shrugs lightly and leans in, smiling wide. "If I'm honest with you, I'm feeling less and less like the mess on your laptop was a mistake." 

Hardison's eyebrows rise quickly, his gaze flicking to Eliot's lips shamelessly. He shakes his head like he's trying to dislodge certain thoughts. "Ah, hell nah," he says flatly, "you pretty, white boys always get me into some kinda trouble." 

Eliot can't hold back the way his own eyebrows jump at Hardison's words. "Uh…" 

"Well, you are pretty," Parker whispers, "and white." 

"Eliot, you have to--" 

"Trouble can be fun sometimes," Eliot says smoothly, leaning his hip on the table and letting his arms flex when he crosses them over his chest. "Trust me, I can make sure it's  _ very  _ fun." 

Hardison snorts and gives Eliot's body another look, his bottom lip catching between his teeth. "Yeah, I bet you can. Unfortunately for us both, I'm here on business. All work and no play; I'm sure you get it." 

"Yeah, I do. I'm actually here for work too. Doing some construction. Not hard work, but it can get a little...dirty." Eliot's lips twitch when Hardison's mouth breaks into an amused grin. "What about you? What's your business?" 

"Working with a business owner." Hardison flaps a hand carelessly. "He needs a little help with his company, so I'm consulting to make sure he ends up walking away with exactly what he deserves." 

"Hawthorn?" Sophie asks warily. 

Eliot whistles low between his teeth. "You're hot shit, aren't you? Who's the guy you're being a hero for? I think I kinda envy him." 

Hardison laughs again, bright and loud. "I wouldn't consider myself his hero. Marcus Hawthorn. He runs a food distribution company." 

"Well, there goes our angle," Nate says with a sigh. 

"No, not yet." Sophie makes a considering noise and Eliot can hear the click of her heels as she paces back and forth. "Alright, Eliot, I need you to hook him. Make him want you." 

"Uh...guys," Parker says warily. 

Eliot steps a little closer to Hardison, tilting his head back to look up into his eyes, bearing his throat in the process. "Sounds like a job that's going to take a while. How long are you in the city?" 

"A while." Hardison's lips twitch up like he finds all of this so,  _ so  _ amusing. "And you?" 

Eliot leans in, lifting one hand to lightly grip Hardison's shoulder, standing on his toes to place his lips next to Hardison's ear. "A while," he breathes out, biting back a smirk when Hardison shudders at the sensation. 

"Guys, my cover is blown," Parker blurts out. "Oh no _.  _ Eliot, I'm coming in hot." 

"Parker,  _ no,"  _ Sophie gasps. 

Eliot leans back just as the chime over the cafe door dings and Parker comes speed-walking in, making a beeline right for Eliot. Hardison looks to the side as Eliot does, and for a moment, Eliot thinks it's all over. But Hardison's eyes widen in the same way they did when he saw Eliot, and his throat bobs, and Eliot can one hundred percent work with this. 

"Babe!" Eliot bellows, allowing his face to break into a sincere smile. He holds out one arm, and it warms his insides that Parker trusts him enough to immediately come over and cuddle into his side. 

"Eliot, what are you  _ doing?"  _ Sophie hisses. 

Nate heaves a sigh. "Eliot, you better have a plan." 

"Hey," Eliot says, turning back towards Hardison, gesturing at him, "look what I found. Isn't he perfect, sweetheart?" 

Parker flicks her gaze over Hardison in consideration, then hums in approval. "Yes, he is!" 

"Oh shit, man, my bad. I--I didn't know you had-- Well, I should have guessed." Hardison's lips twist for a moment, but he forces a smile. "Ima just, uh, let y'all do your thing and--" 

"No, man, it's cool." Eliot winks at Hardison and lets his hand slide down Parker's side, watching as Hardison's eyes track the movement. "You're not mistaken; I was definitely flirting with you." 

"Oh, he's so good at that, isn't he?" Parker sighs happily and looks up at Eliot with adoration. She's remarkable sometimes. 

Hardison blinks rapidly. "Y'all gonna have to excuse me, but I'm not really sure what's going on." 

"Oh, Eliot," Sophie breathes, "you're a  _ genius."  _

Nate sounds pleased when he says, "Hook him." 

"Me and my girl have been looking for the perfect person to date," Eliot says cheerfully, throwing a warm look at Parker. "I mean, it's been hard because we're not always attracted to the same person, but you are… Well, you're perfect." 

Hardison's eyebrows slowly raise and his lips carefully spread into a grin. "Is that right?" 

In unison, Nate and Sophie murmur, "Got him."

* * *

Eliot wants to punch something. Or someone. Parker, surprisingly, looks like she's craving the same thing. 

"This isn't worth it," Eliot snaps, pacing back and forth in front of Nate and Sophie. "The longer it takes to get Hardison, the more Hawthorn gets done. We have to drop Hardison." 

"We need him," Nate says firmly. 

Sophie leans forward. "And you practically  _ have  _ him. All you have to do is make him fall in love with you. With both of you." 

"Well, that seems a bit harsh," Nate mutters. 

"Oh, shush." Sophie rolls her eyes. "That's all grifting  _ is.  _ It's the art of making the mark fall in love with you, with the idea you're presenting." 

"And how is all of this going to tie into Hawthorn?" Parker asks through gritted teeth. 

"Well, Eliot came up with that, actually." Nate stands up and walks in a wide arc, waving his hands leisurely. "See, Hardison thinks Eliot's working in construction. So, what we have to do is make Hawthorn hire a construction company to fix up the mess at his food distribution company." 

"What mess?" Parker and Eliot asks in unison. 

Nate looks at Parker with a smile. "The mess you're going to make." 

Parker's eyes light up. "Do I get to blow things up?" 

"You do." Nate nods and his eyes crinkle at the corners when Parker yelps in excitement. "By this time tomorrow, Hawthorn will have Eliot working in his building, an official employee of his. And it's going to be Eliot's company. When Hardison finds this out, he's going to realize that when Hawthorn's company goes under, Eliot's going to be screwed over. And if he's in love with you…" 

"He'll work to stop it," Eliot mutters, releasing a deep breath when Sophie beams at him. "One problem, how are we going to make Hardison fall in love with us?" 

Sophie purses her lips. "Well, that requires a lighter touch. And, honestly, neither of you are going to like it, but it's necessary." 

Nate hums in agreement. "And this has  _ got  _ to be as close to the truth as possible. When it's over, he has to know exactly who we are. No fake names, no fake backstories. To con a thief, you have to make sure what they want to steal can't be seen as a fraud." 

"You want us to be...ourselves," Eliot says slowly. 

"Exactly," Nate chirps, careless to the discomfort that Eliot and Parker exude in spades. 

"As long as everything goes to plan, you'll both be fine," Sophie assures them softly. There's an undercurrent of pity in her gaze. "I know that neither of you are comfortable with letting anyone get close to you, but it's--" 

"We'll get it done," Eliot growls, glaring at her and Nate before stomping out the room. 

He heads out to his car, slamming the door shut behind him and taking a moment to close his eyes. He breathes, presses his forehead to the wheel, and he counts to ten. Once he's farther away from breaking something, he heads to his hotel. 

He doesn't want to do this for various reasons. The most pressing is Hardison. Eliot doesn't know him well enough to trust him, isn't sure he's capable of opening himself up to a virtual stranger. It's hard to admit it, even to himself, but it helps that he has Parker on this. They're close, have been since the first job, and it's not like he hasn't ever played her boyfriend before. Hell, they've made out for a con and never spoke of it again. 

Eliot forces himself to push it from his mind as he makes it to his hotel. He takes the elevator up to the fifth floor, heading into his room. All he wants right now is a shower and something to eat, so he sets about doing that. 

It's while he's putting together a fresh sub that the window to his room slides open with a near silent  _ snik.  _ He tenses immediately, wishing he was in something besides his towel, and grips the butter knife covered in mayo. He's fought with worse. 

It's only Parker, though, and he doesn't know why he's surprised. She's one of the few people in the world to scale five stories without any equipment, so it's not like he had that many options. He relaxes as she slips into his room and stares at him, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. 

"What if I can't do it?" she asks quietly. 

Eliot shrugs and starts making his sandwich again, spreading more mayo. "You can do it, Parker. But if you don't  _ want to,  _ then you don't have to." 

"I--I don't want to leave you alone." Parker marches over and plops on his bed with a frown. "And it's not like Hardison isn't--he's nice." 

Eliot raises his eyebrows at her. 

"He  _ is,"  _ she insists. "We never ran into each other before, or...he never saw me. But we both worked the same job once by accident. I saw him, what he did with the things the museum stole from the Native Americans. He could have kept it and sold it, but he just--he gave it back to the right people." 

"That doesn't instantly make him a good person, Parker," Eliot says gruffly, moving to the mini fridge to start another sub for her. 

"We're not good people," Parker mumbles, looking down at her lap. "I wouldn't have given it back, not then. I--I was worse back then."

"And you changed." Eliot starts layering the thinly sliced meats on the bread. "That's all that matters." 

"Yeah, but that's my point," Parker says in open frustration. "If he's bad, maybe he can change too." 

Eliot looks up at her, assessing her expression. She looks upset and determined, her eyes blazing as she holds his gaze. "Maybe," he agrees softly, quickly finishing up her sub and bringing it over to her as he sits beside her on the edge of the bed. "But the thing is, Parker, he can only change if he wants to." 

"Maybe he'll want to." 

"Maybe." 

"And if he does?" Parker asks, turning to look at him with a dim spark of hope shimmering in her eyes that anyone else would miss. 

Eliot sighs. "If he does…I'll follow your lead." 

Parker relaxes, bumping her clothed shoulder into his damp, naked one. "Thank you." 

Eliot just grunts and starts in on his sub. Parker follows his motions, biting into it with a nod of appreciation. They stay quiet and eat together, and Eliot does his best to hide his little proud smile when Parker's eyes flutter shut as she takes bite after bite. He wonders, not for the first time, if she can taste all the emotions he puts into his food. 

They finish up right after one another and sit beside each other in silence. Parker flicks crumbs of bread off her legs and Eliot watches them tumble to his carpet, getting lost along the similar color. It's strangely peaceful. 

"You're okay with doing this, right?" Eliot asks after the silence stretches for too long. He looks over at her, searching her face for tells. "With pretending to be my girlfriend, all that stuff." 

Parker just nods. "You're not someone I worry about, Eliot. I trust you."

Eliot ignores how much that pleases him. "I need to know if there's something you can't handle." 

"How far are we talking?" Parker asks, her eyebrows dipping down as she flicks her gaze over his mostly naked body--save for the towel around his waist. 

"Not--not  _ that  _ far, Parker," Eliot says quickly. 

Parker shrugs. "I would have, you know. With you, I could. It wouldn't--you wouldn't hurt me," she murmurs, staring at him in something like a challenge, just  _ daring  _ him to contradict her. 

Eliot smiles at her, despite himself. "No, I wouldn't. I'd never hurt you, any of you." 

"But especially me." Parker's eyes crinkle in the corner as she smiles happily. "I'm your favorite." 

"I don't have favorites," Eliot lies. 

Parker snorts. "Sure you don't." 

* * *

Hardison is...nervous. 

That puts Eliot at ease, strangely enough. He keeps having to remind himself that they have the upper hand. Parker's hand is a steady weight in his, their fingers threaded together, and it's going to be fine. 

For the first date, they settle for taking Hardison out to dinner. It's not too fancy, and the ambiance seems to put Hardison at ease, and that's perfect. Eliot tries to ignore how off-kilter he feels about all of this. They're not blatantly lying anymore; they can't. It's going to be a long con, and Hardison is smart enough to eventually poke holes in their lies, so they have to adjust and keep as close to the truth as possible. That's why Hardison knows their first names, and it surprises Eliot that Hardison gives them his last name to be called by. 

Dinner is a good idea, according to Sophie. It allows for room to talk, but it's a public area. They get taken to their table, and Eliot has to remind himself that he's not trying to be someone else. 

"So, can I ask?" Hardison puts his elbows on the table, a thing that irks Eliot. "I mean, I did a little research, but I'm still curious." 

Parker squeezes Eliot's hand and says, "Ask away." 

"How does this...work?" Hardison waves between the three of them, his eyebrows raising. "I mean, do you guys just want to have a threesome?" 

"That'll come eventually," Eliot says, coughing slightly when Parker snorts at his wording. "But first, we wanted to… Well, I'm going to be honest with you, we've never actually liked someone enough to consider going this far." 

Technically...it's not a lie. 

"Oh, good," Hardison breathes out, relaxing back into his seat. "Y'all are new at this too? Man, you have no idea how comforting it is to hear that. I was feelin' like I was way outta my depth here, but--" 

"Hardison," Eliot snaps without meaning to, and Hardison blinks at Eliot's sharp tone. But hey, they're being themselves, so Hardison will either like it, or he'll walk. "We wanna take it slow." 

Hardison's face softens. "Yeah, okay, I'm up for that. Getting to know each other can be fun. Why don't we just start with that?" 

Eliot is instantly comforted by the fact that Hardison isn't going to push them, then quickly remembers that he shouldn't care about that. He shares a look with Parker, something passing between them, and this is where it starts. 

Hardison shocks the hell out of Eliot by being honest. Or, mostly honest. He doesn't come right out and say that he's a hacker, but he never lies. He talks about being in foster care, talks about doing some travelling, talks about his love for technology and anything that Eliot considers nerdy. 

It makes Eliot feel better. Parker seems more at ease too. Maybe because they're not the only ones opening themselves up in this scenario. 

They eventually get on the subject of hobbies. 

"Oh, so you're a foodie?" Hardison grins widely in amusement. "Oh man, you're gonna  _ hate  _ me. My diet consists mostly of hot-pockets, gummi frogs, and orange soda. My veins are probably made of pure sugar at this point." 

Eliot grimaces before he can catch himself, but Hardison just laughs like he's genuinely enjoying this. "That ain't good for you," he mutters. "You're as bad as Parker. She'd live off of cereal and pop tarts if I'd let her." 

"I fully encourage that," Hardison says, grinning at Parker when she snort-laughs. It's a reaction that Eliot knows for a fact isn't forced. 

"I like climbing," Parker blurts out. 

Hardison just smiles. "Oh, cool. I'm not gonna lie, I'm not really athletic like that, and I don't do heights. But as long as you like it--" 

"I do," Parker says, sitting up and staring at Hardison intensely. "I like climbing, and being high in the air, and falling from heights. I like small spaces too. Don't you think that's weird?" 

"Well, maybe a little, but no weirder than my DnD campaigns, or my Star Wars action figures. Well, those are actually first edition, but I think you get my point," Hardison tells her, the row of bright white teeth flashing for a moment. 

"Yeah," Parker says slowly, "I think I do." 

Hardison flicks his warm gaze to Eliot, blinking patiently. "And what about you? What else do you like besides cooking?" 

"Oh, uh." Eliot pauses for a moment, not entirely sure what he's supposed to say, before he remembers that he needs to be honest. "I like...boxing, and MMA fight-styles, and singing. Well, a little on the last one. It's just something I can do. But I like to go to the gym and train, stuff like that." 

"Huh, that's pretty cool. Hey, you could probably teach me some moves," Hardison says brightly, his eyes flicking to Eliot's arms pointedly. "I mean...in a safe environment." 

Eliot chuckles without meaning to, the laugh a warm and rough release from somewhere he hadn't been aware of. He clears his throat to cover it up, but Hardison beams like he's just won the lottery or something. That's so endearing, it isn't even funny. 

"What about you?" Eliot demands with a low snarl that he can't hold onto. 

Hardison doesn't seem phased by it. "Oh, me? As far as hobbies go, it's mostly technology. I like computers, and I'm really good with them. I can do some engineering, nothing fancy, but I like having little projects. Oh! And I played the violin when I was a kid. Probably shouldn't have stopped." 

"I'll teach you the guitar if you teach me about violins," Eliot offers, only half-joking. It's an instrument he's always liked, and it could be a date idea at some point. 

"Oh, dude, that--that would be awesome!" Hardison perks up like he's been called on. "I would definitely do that. What about you, Parker? Do you want to learn the violin?" 

"No," Parker says casually. 

Hardison arches an eyebrow. "Fair enough. Maybe one day I'll teach you about technology. You too, Eliot." 

Biting back a sarcastic retort, Eliot says, "Sounds good. Thanks." 

"No problem," Hardison says, and that's that. 

The date goes entirely too well. Eliot and Parker walk him to his car--a rental, they notice--and he asks them to call if they want to do it again. Just before he leaves, he leans forward and presses a simple kiss to Eliot's cheek, then Parker's. And just like that, he's sliding into his car and is gone. 

Eliot realizes they have a problem, but he's not sure how to voice it. The thing is...Hardison is just so  _ nice.  _ For the world's best hacker, he's an all around good guy, and there's an innocence to him. Like the horrors of the world haven't been able to reach him. 

Parker looks up at him and Eliot knows what passes between them.  _ Concern.  _ They can't pull off this con if they end up wanting to  _ protect the mark.  _ That's not how these things work. And yet. 

"We can't tell Nate," Parker whispers. 

Eliot nods. "Sophie can never know." 

And that, unfortunately, is that. 

* * *

There's a snag on date two. 

They're going around the city, walking like tourists would, and it all starts out fine. Parker stands between them, each arm draped through one of theirs, and the conversation is light. 

They get two blocks before Eliot notices that they're being followed. He calmly pulls away and ducks down to act like he's tying his shoe, stuffing his shitty comm in his ear and hissing, "Nate, we've got a problem. We've picked up a tail." 

"Okay, are you in a position to talk to me?" Nate asks after a moment. 

Eliot looks up at Hardison, not entirely sure what he just said. "I'm sorry, Hardison, but I missed what you asked. Damn shoe; there was something stuck on the bottom of it, and I couldn't just talk to it and tell it to get off, you know?" 

Hardison shoots him an odd look. "Uh, yeah, we've all been there, man. But you should probably wash your hands. Stepping in gum is unsanitary as hell." 

"That's your opening. Double back and handle the tail. Find out who sent him," Nate orders. 

Eliot grits his teeth. "Yeah, I'll do that." 

He breaks away to jog into the shop ahead. Before he enters, he glances back to give Parker a pointed look. Because she knows him, she immediately draws Hardison's attention away, distracting him, and it gives Eliot the opportunity to duck behind the building and circle back. He has to jog to catch the guy following them before he passes, reaching out to snag him by his collar and drag him around the building forcefully. 

The guy instantly starts trying to fight, and he's pretty good, Eliot will give him that. Unfortunately for him, Eliot's better. That's how it usually is. 

It ends with the man's wrist bent back slightly too far, on the precipice of breaking, and Eliot holds him steady with threat as he growls, "Who sent you?" 

The man, wincing and doing his best not to upset the wrist Eliot has a grip on, just stutters out, "I--I don't know what you--" 

"Oh, really?" Eliot bends his hand back some more, applying pressure, and the man lets out a loud groan of pain. "Listen, bud, I can do this all day. What we have right now is a situation where I can break your hand in four different places.  _ Slowly.  _ And if you want to be brave and withhold the information I want, well, you've got another hand. So, I'm gonna ask you one more time…  _ Who sent you?"  _

"Hawthorn," the man blurts out, quivering in place, his eyes wide. "He--he wanted me to follow the black guy, see what he was doing. I--I didn't ask why, I just--" 

"Yeah, yeah," Eliot grits out, dropping the man's hand and reaching up in one smooth motion to slam his head against the building, knocking him out. Eliot heaves a sigh. "Nate, you got that?" 

Nate hums. "Yes, I did. So, Hawthorn is keeping an eye out on Hardison? Seems like he doesn't trust the hacker he's hired, and for good reason." 

"Never trust a thief," Eliot mumbles, backing up to start heading back towards the street. 

"Yes, well," Nate says carefully, "we can only hope that Hardison is giving Hawthorn a reason to be worried. Alright, get back to your date." 

Eliot scowls and rips the comm out of his ear, stepping back to the sidewalk and jogging until he catches sight of Parker and Hardison. They're still strolling along, her arm looped through his, and Eliot comes to an abrupt halt. They look really good together, is the thing. 

He forces himself to get his mind out of the gutter and hurries up to them, casually falling into step with them like he didn't just knock some guy out behind a donut shop. Hardison smiles at him, none the wiser. 

"I was just telling Parker that we should play Twenty Questions," Hardison tells him. "Best way to get to know somebody. Can you believe it? She's never played the game. That's a cryin' shame, and I--" 

"No," Eliot interrupts, frowning at Hardison like he's an idiot. "I ain't playin' that. It's stupid." 

"That's what I said," Parker agrees, bobbing her head. "Why not just ask the questions? There's no need to make it a game. You don't even win." 

Hardison rolls his eyes like he's been dealing with them for years. "Y'all cynical as hell. Aight, fine, excuse the hell outta me for tryna spice things up. I see how it is; y'all just keep on ganging up on me, that's fine. Sure, y'all ain't playing, but I am." 

"Hardison," Eliot says, fighting the amusement kicking around in his chest. 

"What's your favorite color?" Hardison asks Parker, raising both eyebrows in challenge. 

Parker frowns at him. "I don't have one." 

"Oh, come on." Hardison flicks his gaze between her and Eliot, lips twitching. "Everyone has a favorite color, even you two. You know, a color you like more than others. Or the color of your favorite thing. Or--" 

"Green," Parker replies instantly, blinking slowly. 

Eliot bites back a grin, well aware that money is her favorite thing and that's why green is what she went with. It's such a  _ Parker  _ way to be, and Eliot doesn't really have to work hard to form the fond expression he sends her way. She smiles back. 

"And what about you?" Hardison asks Eliot. 

Eliot's favorite color isn't really something he thinks about, mostly because it feels like a childish notion. But Hardison is right; everyone has a color that they favor over others. Eliot's just happens to be orange. He's never told anyone that, always going with the more common color, blue. It's just that orange is his favorite because all of those years in the midst of his deployment when he'd spent months in the desert. The sun had been big and bright, sending orange hues as far as the eye could see, and the sand had been an angry orange, hot and organic. It had been all he'd seen for months and he'd hated it at the time, but he thinks back on it fondly now--thinks back on the man he was then, so young and away from home and nowhere near the monster he is now. 

Eliot doesn't usually tell people that, preferring not to explain why, but when he opens his mouth, he is completely honest. "Orange," he says gruffly. 

"Cool," Hardison says. "I like Purple. It's the color scheme of my guild." 

"What's a guild?" Parker asks. 

Eliot heaves a sigh. 

* * *

It's not the first time he's played a construction worker, and he actually enjoys the normalcy. What he  _ doesn't  _ enjoy is Hawthorn being a huge piece of shit. 

"What--what do you  _ mean  _ it could take months?" Hawthorn yells, bald head sweating like Eliot's just ruined all his plans. 

Eliot has only ruined, like, three. "I'm just saying, sir, we don't know how long it could take in the overall project," he says with a cordial smile. 

Hawthorn scowls and snaps his finger at his assistant, who just so happens to be Sophie. "Give me my phone. My associate should be here soon, and I don't have time to worry about this shit." 

Sophie rushes to hand him his phone, still in character, her dark hair falling into her eyes. "Here you are, sir," she whispers meekly. 

"I'm here, I'm here!" Hardison suddenly comes barreling down the steps, laptop bag strap thrown over his shoulder. He comes bounding over, not even looking at anyone. "Relax, man, I've got--" 

_ "Hardison?"  _ Eliot blurts out, letting his eyes go wide. 

Head snapping up, Hardison stares at Eliot in blatant shock. "Eliot? You're--you're here." 

"Do you know him?" Hawthorn asks sharply. 

Hardison blinks rapidly. "I--yes. He's my--well, I'm his… Uh, we know each other, yes." 

"Wait, you work with Marcus Hawthorn," Eliot says slowly, reaching up to smack his forehead. "Well, I'll be damned. He hired me and my company, and I forgot you worked with him." 

"Hired you…" Hardison murmurs. 

Eliot bobs his head easily. "Yeah, for construction? We're fixing up this area." 

"Is this going to be a problem?" Hawthorn demands, raising his eyebrows at Hardison pointedly. 

Hardison grimaces. "Nah, no problem. We ain't in the same line of work, so I doubt our paths will cross. No problem at all." 

"Well, hey, I get a lunch break every day," Eliot says easily, smiling. "Parker comes and eats with me. You should join us." 

"I don't pay you to eat," Hawthorn snaps. 

Eliot forces himself not to hit him. "Well, sir, the state mandates that each--" 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Hawthorn scowls and shakes his head, focusing on Hardison. "I don't pay  _ you  _ to eat, do I? Come on, we've got things to discuss." 

Hardison waits until Hawthorn is walking away to flip him the bird, and Eliot allows himself the smile that tugs at the tip of his lips. Sophie goes rushing after Hawthorn, her body bowed in on itself, looking like someone Eliot's never met before. Hardison, for his part, drops his hand and turns to Eliot. 

"When's your lunch break?" he asks softly. 

Eliot grins. "Three o'clock. Every day." 

"I'll see you then," Hardison tells him, then winks before turning and walking away. 

Sure enough, at three o'clock, Hardison comes skidding into the room with wide eyes darting around. Parker and Eliot are talking quietly among themselves, but really, they're carrying on a full conversation with Nate. Eliot's hired men are moving around, pretending to not look at Parker in interest, which is the best route to take. 

As Hardison approaches, Eliot raises his hand and waves him outside towards his truck. Parker leads the way out, blinking owlishly over her shoulder at Hardison in that vaguely weird way of hers, and Eliot lets his hand rest at the dip in her lower back. It's odd how perfectly it fits, second only to the strangeness of Hardison's hand coming to rest on the same spot on his back, fitting there just as snugly. Like a weird train of intimacy, they stay connected as they approach the truck, and Eliot wishes it felt more wrong than it does. 

Eliot breaks the contact as soon as he can, moving away to let the tailgate of his truck down. Parker immediately swings herself up to sit on it, one knee drawn close to her chest, hands reaching out to dig through Eliot's lunch like its her own. Hardison leans his hip against the tailgate and crosses his arms, looking between them with a small smile. 

"So," Parker says, opening Eliot's sandwich and waving it around, "how'd you get into business with Marcus Hawthorn? Eliot says he's a nasty man." 

Hardison wrinkles his nose. "He is. But hey, it's like Eliot, I'm guessing. Gotta go where the money is, am I right?" he jokes weakly. 

"Yeah, well, I couldn't afford not to." Eliot reaches out and snatches his sandwich with a scowl. "My company can't take another hit, or I won't have a company at all." 

As Eliot bites into his sandwich, Hardison shakes his head like he's annoyed. "The damn economy, man. No honest man can make money these days." 

There's a brief silence where Eliot has to work very hard not to glance at Parker. It's close, but he manages to keep his eyes on his sandwich and keep on chewing like Hardison's casual statement doesn't mean more than it does. 

Parker, less subtle than Eliot, rattles off, "Sucks for them," and snags Eliot's sandwich again. 

Hardison raises his eyebrows. "Um--" 

"Yes," Eliot growls, shooting Parker a scolding look as he snatches his sandwich back  _ yet again,  _ "it really does. Anyway, what are you doing tomorrow?" 

"Nothing really." Hardison gives a lazy smile and shrugs, looking between them with warmth in his gaze. "Whatever y'all wanna do, if you're planning something. I'm down for whatever." 

"We want to do something  _ you  _ want to do," Parker says abruptly, and that's not actually the plan, but Eliot has no choice but to roll with it now. "You should pick the place this time." 

"Yeah?" Hardison asks, his eyes lighting up in delight, and Eliot instantly feels like an idiot for not thinking of this sooner. "I have just the thing. And I promise it won't be something you'll both hate." 

Eliot crosses his arms when Hardison reaches out to pluck the sandwich from his hand as if he's entitled to it--which, to be fair, Eliot doesn't really think it's anymore out of the ordinary than when Parker does it. That is precisely the problem. 

"Tell us in advance," Eliot demands doubtfully, narrowing his eyes at Hardison's grin. "As in, now." 

"Well, I just so happen to know how to get three invites to that fancy art gallery opening downtown. The one time when most of the things being shown off are artifacts and objects  _ rather  _ than paintings. There's apparently a diamond engraved compass worth three million dollars." Hardison abruptly stops and blinks, clearing his throat. "Uh, not that--I mean, I just think it would be cool to see." 

Eliot has to duck his head to hide his smile, which is annoying for many reasons, but Parker grins so wide that she looks slightly unhinged. Hardison beams at them both, meaning he catches both smiles, even with how different they are. 

It's just slightly amusing to see Hardison struggling to keep himself from hiding that he's a thief. It means he's as open as he'll ever be with what he considers to be two civilians. It's comforting, as loathe as Eliot is to admit it, and it's something that surprises him. There's really no denying that Hardison likes them,  _ really  _ likes them, if he's being so much of himself that he nearly invites them on a heist for a date. 

"Yeah, okay," Eliot says, nodding once. "I don't know how you're going to get the invites, but--" 

"I know a guy," Hardison tells him. 

Parker blinks. "Who?" 

"Can't give away all my secrets so early, that wouldn't be right," Hardison replies with a wink that's irritatingly smooth. He takes the last bite of the sandwich, swallows, and smiles wide. "Why don't y'all just let me treat you to a good night?" 

Parker and Eliot share a look, then in unison, they both casually say, "We're in." 

* * *

"That Hawthorn is a piece of work," Sophie mutters as she fusses with Eliot's tie, oblivious to the glare he's sending her way. "I mean, honestly, I've grifted horrible men, but he's certainly one of the worst." 

Nate looks up from where he's clipping Parker's shoe clasps while she finishes braiding her hair. Her heel is planted on his knee while he helps her, and it looks like a dad sending his daughter off to prom. In a weird way, it feels like it too. 

"He'll get what's coming to him," Nate says and taps Parker's ankle so she knows he's done. 

Sophie smooths a hand down Eliot's tie, smiling at him in warm approval. "Yes, he will. While you two are off wooing the handsome hacker, Nate and I will be planting the proper files to send him into a frenzy. So, we're all to have fun nights, then." 

Eliot raises two sarcastic thumbs. "Yeah, just  _ loads  _ of fun," he says with a fake smile. 

"Oh, stop it," Sophie says, tutting and lightly smacking his arm, rolling her eyes. "I think it's sweet that Hardison is trying to woo you as a thief. It's almost a fitting mating ritual, if he'd known who you really were. He really likes the both of you, that much is obvious by how he's staying true to who  _ he  _ is. I mean, he could be anyone, play any role, and yet he liked you both enough to just be himself. He wants you two to like him for who he is, not who he's pretending to be. It's...romantic." 

Eliot scowls, Parker looks thoughtful, and Nate grimaces like he always does when he's reminded of this part of the con. He won't say it, but Eliot knows he thinks that making Hardison fall in love on a lie is slightly cruel, but that's coming from a man who's had his heart broken in every way possible. 

"Why do I have to wear this?" Parker asks abruptly, pulling the straps of her dress down to reveal the tips of a lacy bra. Nate instantly looks away; a beat too late, Eliot does too. "I don't like these." 

Sophie nods sympathetically. "I know you don't like bras, Parker, but the dress really doesn't fit right without one. Trust me, you look gorgeous." 

Parker scrunches her face up. "Who cares about that? I'm uncomfortable." 

"Well, on you go, you'll both be late otherwise," Sophie calls out, pushing them towards the door, halting the argument before it can begin. "Have fun!" 

"Eliot, Parker," Nate says, making them both pause in the doorway. He stares at them seriously, eyebrows raised slightly. "Don't steal anything." 

Eliot grunts and pushes Parker out the door before she can argue with them both, well aware that they won't get anywhere if she gets started. She frowns as they head outside to his car, but she doesn't try and argue with him. She could, they both know that, but he rarely entertains her, something else they both know. By the time he's opening the door for her to slide into the passenger seat, she seems to have forgotten about her annoyance. Thankfully. 

They'd agreed to meet Hardison at the front of the art gallery, where he'd give them their respective tickets and escort them inside. When Eliot pulls them to a stop, Hardison is already on the sidewalk, waiting for them to show up. 

For a moment, Eliot and Parker sit in perfect silence, just staring out the window. Eliot's pretty sure that they're both thinking the same thing. 

The thing is, Hardison looks…unfairly good. He's wearing what appears to be a very dark--nearly black--purple suit that compliments his skin tone handsomely. There's a peek of white from his button-up shirt, glinting cufflinks, and he doesn't have on a tie of any sort, choosing instead to leave the top two buttons undone. He's--well, he looks really good, and it kind of sends Eliot reeling to realize just how into it he is. 

"He's prettier than us," Parker notes with just a hint of annoyance in her voice, like this is getting to her too. She grips the door handle so hard that her knuckles are stark white. 

"Yeah." Eliot sighs. "He is."

"Eliot--" Parker abruptly stops and swivels in her seat to stare at him with a calculating glint in her eye. She looks at him for so long that he gets angry, on the verge of snapping at her, then she sits up straight. "Can I kiss you?" 

Eliot's mouth goes dry instantly. The heat in the car from him trying to keep them warm suddenly seems stifling, and he doesn't speak for a long moment. He knows without asking, can tell by the seriousness in the tight clench of her fists and how she asks before just  _ doing,  _ understands automatically that this has absolutely nothing to do with the con. She wants to kiss him for some crazy reason that only she has access to in her own head, and it's up to him to decide if she can. 

It's not really a decision he has to think about. 

"Yeah, Parker," he says gruffly, "you can kiss me." 

She does immediately, leaning over the middle console to stretch up and mash her lips to his with no finesse whatsoever. They've kissed before for various cons, to avoid goons or getting caught, but it's always fake, like they're playing roles. This, however, is as real as it's ever going to get. 

This is all Parker. It's unmistakable. For all the kisses they've shared, she suddenly doesn't know what to do with her mouth, and it's flattering in a way only Eliot will be able to understand. It's not their first kiss, but it is, and Eliot feels the need to make it good surge up within him like a lion rearing its large head to roar. He thinks vaguely, somewhere in the back of his head, that this is a bad idea, but he ignores that. 

Reaching up, Eliot gently grips her chin between his thumb and curled finger, tilting her head just enough to adjust the angle. He doesn't deepen the kiss too much, just kisses her softly, letting their lips glide together slowly. Parker relaxes all at once, letting all the tension out of her body, sighing into his mouth and letting him show her what to do. 

Parker is a quick-learner, which probably has to do with the fact that she's actually full-on made out with him before. She's the one who deepens the kiss, spreading his lips apart with her own; she's the one who reaches out to touch him, gripping his shoulder hard; she's the one who involves teeth, lightly nipping at his bottom lip. Eliot goes along with it because--well, because he's weak enough to not be capable of pulling away. 

Then, Parker breaks off. Only minutely, however, leaving her forehead pressed against his, her quick breathing fanning over his lips. "Thank you," she whispers, holding the contact for a long time. 

Eliot clears his throat and grunts. "Whatever you need," he replies, voice thick and low. 

It's the truth, they both know that, but he's never really laid it out there so openly. The words ring with a frightening honesty--whatever you need, always. He means that, he truly does, and she smiles a tiny smile like she understands. 

"Can we do that again?" Parker asks, pulling away to look at him curiously. "With Hardison too?" 

Eliot falters, not entirely sure how to respond. He knows immediately that he  _ wants  _ to, but that pretty much ensures that he shouldn't. He also knows that they're going to have to kiss Hardison at some point as this progresses, but he's been avoiding thinking about it. But Parker seems more at ease, like she's suddenly a lot more comfortable with the idea, and Eliot is happy to have helped with that and has no intentions of ruining that for her. 

Even still, he frowns and says, "We'll see." 

Parker grins like that's a yes. 

She hops out of the car without another word, and Eliot has to rush to meet her before she starts walking. Parker accepts the arm he offers, leaning into his side and looking relaxed, and they head off. 

Hardison looks over at them and his eyes scan them without registering who they are, but he quickly does a double-take, his eyes snapping back to land on them as his lips part. Eliot can see how he holds his breath as they approach, his gaze drinking them in greedily, and it has no business being as flattering as it is. He knows he looks good, knows he has charm and nice hair and is just generally attractive. Parker is also very attractive, even if she doesn't know or, most likely, doesn't care. 

But, under Hardison's gaze, Eliot finds himself going a little hot around the collar. 

"Wow," Hardison breathes out when they come to a stop in front of him, finally exhaling. "I--I mean, hey. You two look--you're… Wow." 

Parker reaches out to poke at his collarbone that's barely visible underneath his suit. "Why don't you have to wear a bra? If you don't, I shouldn't have to." 

Eliot sighs. "Parker--" 

"No, I hear you, girl." Hardison smiles so wide that he looks like he's plotting something mischievous, white teeth flashing. "My nana used to say bras were an inconvenience to all women." 

"I like your Nana," Parker decides immediately. She tilts her head. "Is she dead?" 

_ "Parker,"  _ Eliot hisses, squeezing her arm in his. 

Hardison flinches like he's been slapped but waves a hand casually. "No, it's--it's fine. My Nana is  _ not  _ dead. Been awhile since I saw her, though." 

"I never had a Nana," Parker muses quietly, looking up at the art gallery, her lips tipping down. "Eliot, did you have a Nana?" 

Eliot scowls. "She died when I was young. Had a Papa, though. He was...rude." 

"Lemme guess," Hardison says lightly, "he wore overalls and cussed like a sailor?" 

"He  _ was  _ a Sailor," Eliot corrects, shaking his head when Parker looks over at him in confusion. "No, not like a pirate, Parker. He was in the Navy." 

Hardison bobs his head and shuffles a little closer, looking a little wary as he asks, "Is that where you joined up? Or--or were you just a Soldier?" 

Eliot stares at him. "How did you--" 

"You carry yourself a certain way," Hardison mumbles. "Just--just the way you walk. You always check the exits, no matter where we go, and you kind of...stand at attention sometimes. I dunno." 

"I don't talk about that," Eliot says very firmly. 

"He doesn't," Parker confirms. 

"Okay." Hardison nods and offers a kind smile, one that grates on Eliot's nerves. "That's cool, man. I won't ask you again." 

Eliot sweeps out a hand and growls, "Let's just go inside." 

"Sure," Hardison agrees, digging in his suit jacket to pull out two invites, passing them over without batting an eye. 

"Hardison," Parker says sharply, reaching out to snag his arm as he goes to turn around. He pauses and waits patiently. "You're--we think you're wow too." 

Hardison's face splits as he breaks out into yet another bright grin, his eyes crinkling slightly around the corners. "Yeah?" 

Eliot doesn't know where it comes from, but it rips out of him in a rasp. "Yeah." 

"Heeeeey," Hardison says playfully, drawing the word out and stepping back to get in between them, throwing his arms over their shoulders. "This is going to be so much fun." 

For some reason, Eliot thinks so too, but he just sighs like he believes the opposite. He's really got to work on his delivery, because neither Hardison or Parker seem to believe he's annoyed at all. 

* * *

It's like any other upscale art gallery that's giving a separate opening to rich people. There's an abundance of food and wine, people walking around with flashy jewelry, various employees trying to get certain pieces sold. 

It's odd to be in a place like this without being on a con or coming for the sole reason of stealing. Eliot knows that Parker has all possible ways to steal every piece already mapped out in her head because she's gone suspiciously silent as she looks around. Eliot does his best not to pay attention  _ that  _ much, but it's hard not to imagine all the way he could... _ retrieve.  _

They stroll around, talking quietly amongst themselves and avoiding any others who look like they might want to talk. Hardison steers them in front of a jeweled dagger that looks tempting, but he manages to distract them by asking more about them. It's kind of hard to internally plan out heists when you're uncomfortably being honest about who you are. Or, well, it is in  _ Eliot's  _ experience. 

It's strange how much Hardison knows about them now. It's not just superficial stuff, either. More than knowing that Eliot likes cooking and Parker likes climbing. He knows that they travel a lot, knows their favorite countries to visit, knows what their favorite holidays are. Knows that Parker likes to wear fuzzy socks in her downtime, knows she only likes three songs, knows she doesn't enjoy the smell of aftershave, knows she was in the system as a kid, and knows she has no normal fears. Knows that Eliot likes country music, knows his favorite football team, knows what brand of beer he likes, knows he doesn't really like his own father, and knows he used to dream of having a dog of his own. 

There are things that Eliot suspects he knows without being told. Things like the fact that they're just different than normal people. That Eliot pretends to be angry, even when he's amused. That Parker doesn't really care to deal with deep emotions, even if she has no choice but to feel them. He must know that Eliot's as soft as he is prickly, that Parker is as special as she is weird, and yet...he never lets on that he's aware of it. 

They know a lot about Hardison too, even outside of the initial information they'd started with. He likes Star Wars and Harry Potter, sure, but he also has a weakness for romantic comedies. He knows technology like it's his first language, that's without a doubt, but he's never held a Nokia phone in his hands before. He never went to college, which had disappointed his Nana, a thing that still bothers him to this day. He's scared of spiders, heights, bullies, and he's obsessed with what it must feel like to stand in the eye of a storm, and he's terrified of failing at anything he decides to do. He's never been in love, never known to defrost chicken before cooking it, never broke someone's heart. 

Hardison is so  _ good  _ that it almost makes Eliot want to be sick sometimes. 

If the world was different, if  _ they  _ were different, they'd be falling in love right now. But that's not in the cards, and Eliot refuses to be disappointed by that. He thinks that Parker's in the same boat. 

The more they spend time with Hardison, the more Eliot has to remind himself that this is a con. 

A sharp reminder comes when Hardison excuses himself to go to the bathroom and slips away with a small smile on his lips. Eliot knows without a doubt that he is not, in fact, going to the restroom. For one, he'd went in the wrong direction, and for two, he'd worn an expression that Eliot has seen on Parker's face and in the mirror. That's the  _ I'm about to get away with stealing something  _ face, and it looks unfairly good on him. It's also a huge slap in the face. 

"Should I follow him?" Parker asks carefully. 

Eliot sighs. "Go in the vents. I'll circle back and cut off the guards. He didn't plan this properly." 

"What if he sees you?" 

"He won't. Trust me, he's not going to figure us out. Can't believe he's risking us finding out about him." 

Parker sends him an amused smile. "You know, it is kind of fun, isn't it? Pretending?" 

Eliot's lips twitch against his will. "A little. Shut up, let's go keep that dumbass from getting himself caught by guards  _ or  _ us." 

With that, Parker slips off into the crowd and disappears. By the time he's slipping into the long hallway where no guests are supposed to enter, she's moving through the vents above him. He can hear her faintly and coughs to let her know that she's not being as silent as she thinks she is, which earns him a thump and a very loud huff. Eliot's guessing that it's more cramped than most vents, but she must figure it out because there's nothing but silence as he keeps on walking down the hallway. 

Because Eliot is who he is, he knows that the guards make their rounds every ten minutes. They're three minutes in, so there's seven more before Hardison is in trouble. Whatever he's going to do, he needs to do it fast, or else Eliot will have to intervene. 

As he comes up on the corner, Eliot peeks around carefully. Hardison is standing in front of the door that holds all the pieces that are too valuable to be sold to anyone besides those overseas. Coincidentally, those people overseas are going to be buying illegally, as most pieces aren't actually the galleries rightful property. Eliot knows this only because he's intercepted  _ many  _ different pieces in much the same situation. Plus, he and Parker had looked up the catalogue not released to the public. There's probably ten million worth of stolen goods in that room, and honestly, Eliot can see why Hardison wants to take a few pieces for himself. 

Two minutes out from the guards doing their rounds, Hardison makes a little whoop and says, "Hell yeah. Age of the geek, baby." 

There's a cord connected to his phone and the door, which Eliot doesn't really understand, and Hardison pulls it free when the door opens with a loud click. Eliot's eyebrows fly up in surprise, reluctantly impressed. Hardison slips into the room with a grin that's just a damn crime at this point. 

As Eliot suspected, Hardison has planned this poorly. Before he's done, the guards start their rounds, and Eliot releases a sigh when they come up the hallway. Before they can so much as shout, he launches himself forward and goes to work. 

It's over in less than three minutes. Four men sprawled out on the floor, knocked out. Eliot doesn't actually have the time to hide their bodies because he can hear the door Hardison somehow opened close with another loud clang. He has no choice but to get back to the party, leaving the men right there in the hallway where Hardison will inevitably see them. 

Well, at least he won't know who did it. 

Eliot swivels on his heel and rushes back to the party, hurrying back into the crowd before he's seen. He tries to pat down his hair and fix his suit, doing his best to look put together, as opposed to looking like he'd just gotten into a tussle. Parker pops up at his elbow, appearing seemingly out of thin air, reaching out to straighten his tie with a small smile. 

"He did good," Parker comments softly. 

Eliot huffs. "Not good enough." 

"That's why he had you," Parker says, patting his arm. "Here he comes." 

Sure enough, Hardison strolls up as if he hadn't just broken into the art gallery's vault to steal something, smiling wide. "Sorry it took so long. There was a line," he says casually. 

"It happens," Eliot replies easily, fighting the urge to laugh out loud. This is honestly a little too funny for him to cope with. 

Hardison seems to think so too, because he laughs bright and loud, and it's nearly blinding. Parker smiles in response, wide and feral, like she's just as thrilled by the thievery as Hardison is, even if she hadn't done the actual stealing. Eliot knows--oh how he  _ knows  _ and is helpless to it--that he's grinning in equal exhilaration, like he's stolen something too. 

Parker looks at him and Eliot looks back, and they both watch Hardison laugh, and Eliot thinks that maybe they have stolen something after all. 

* * *

"Okay, you've nearly got him on the hook." 

Eliot tenses in his seat and has to force himself to relax as Sophie paces back and forth in front of them. Parker is sitting on the arm of the couch, leaning against him, poking his faint bruises. It's a weird ritual, but he's used to it by now. 

"Everything is coming together," Nate says, sounding pleased, holding his glass of whiskey loosely in his hand. "Hawthorn has given Sophie access to his office and doesn't really notice her at all. I've been cracking down on him, but he's not too worried about selling the company. He's not going to let it go to me, not when his payout will be more with his plan. I'm just buying you time until you can get Hardison to double-cross him." 

"What if he won't?" Parker asks, her nails digging into Eliot's arm tightly, and he thinks she doesn't realize it, so he doesn't complain. 

Sophie stops pacing and turns to face them. "He will. Trust me, Parker, he will." 

Nate heaves a sigh. "Hardison is helping Hawthorn cover his tracks and  _ ensure  _ that he'll come out of this without being touched. If he can flip it and make sure that Hawthorn goes under for it, then no one will get hurt. Hardison will; you'll make him." 

"How?" Eliot grits out. 

"You three are close now, or so he thinks." Sophie tilts her head with a small frown. "You need to make him believe that you trust him. Let him in on your struggles with the construction company. We're going to give you a file of all the things we have on Hawthorn, and you're going to show it to Hardison." 

Eliot gapes at her. "What? You can't be serious. I'm not giving up our only leverage to--" 

"Not yet, but you will when he's on the hook," Sophie interrupts calmly. "Once he's convinced that he's in love with you, he'll do his best to take Hawthorn down so neither of you will suffer." 

"There is also the small chance that he doesn't know Hawthorn's plans," Nate suggests. "If he's a good man, he'll take him down anyway."

"He's a good man," Parker says slowly, almost absently, her eyes distant as she gazes down at Eliot. 

"How will we know when he's on the hook?" Eliot asks through gritted teeth, fighting the squirming feeling in his chest that tells him this is  _ wrong.  _

Sophie waves a hand. "You'll know." 

"Sophie," Parker says in a surprisingly firm voice, making her look up.  _ "We  _ won't know." 

"Ah," Sophie murmurs delicately, tucking her expression of pity away just a little too late. "Well, everyone has a love language, Parker. You do, Eliot does, Nate does, even I do. What's Hardison's?" 

Parker's face scrunches up. "I don't know." 

"Eliot?" Sophie prompts. 

"How the hell am I supposed to know that?" Eliot barks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Sophie rolls her eyes. "Generally speaking, people  _ tell  _ you their love language, often without meaning to. People who aren't complicated, of course, and  _ especially  _ when they know they're walking into a relationship. For example, a man who starts dating someone might say that he'll show them something important to him--doesn't matter what--and the day that he does...that's when he's in love, even if he doesn't know it. It's suggesting a future early on, and once he sees one for sure, he makes it reality." 

Eliot feels the crease in his eyebrow. "Hardison hasn't said anything like that." 

"He has, you just didn't realize it," Sophie assures him, shaking her head. "Trust me, you'll know it when you see it." 

Parker frowns. "If you say so." 

* * *

"What if he doesn't like it?" 

Eliot sighs and keeps on stirring with the spoon, throwing an impatient look over his shoulder. Parker is getting on his last nerve. He adores her, he really does, but if she offhandedly insults his cooking one more time, he's going to yell. 

"Parker--" 

"What if he's allergic? What if he hates pasta? What if he doesn't--" 

_ "Parker!"  _ Eliot whirls around in time to see her scowl at him for yelling. He takes a calm breath. "Stop getting yourself worked up. This is just like every other date." 

"It's not," Parker argues. "You know it's not."

"Why?" Eliot growls, slamming the wooden spoon down with a harsh clatter. "Because he's coming somewhere that's not public? Because he's--" 

"Because we  _ want  _ him here," Parker snaps, lifting blue eyes to pin him in place. 

Eliot heaves a sigh and deflates, bracing his hands against the counter. "He'll like the food, Parker." 

Parker swallows, blinking and looking away as she draws her knees close to her chest, boots resting on his counter as if he hasn't yelled at her multiple times for it. She looks small and vulnerable, and though he knows she's anything but, it makes his heart twinge in his chest. 

"I wish he knew," Parker whispers into her knees, refusing to look at him. "He'd stay if he knew. I know he would.  _ You  _ know he would." 

"Maybe," Eliot allows, swallowing thickly. "But that's not what we're doing here, remember?" 

"What  _ are  _ we doing?" Parker asks briskly, dropping her feet and scooting over to lean into his space, searching his gaze and flipping through emotions as quickly as she breaks into safes. "Eliot, what are we  _ doing?  _ We're supposed to be the good guys, but I just feel...bad." 

Eliot doesn't lean away, doesn't break from her gaze. He holds his own. He nods. "I know."

Quieter, Parker repeats, "What are we doing?" 

"I don't know," Eliot admits more honestly than he means to be. 

Parker sighs and leans forward, sagging into him like all the fight has gone out of her. It's not really a question of what he should do; he does what's best for her, what she needs. He reaches up and hugs her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close, one hand cupping the back of her head while the other splays wide against her lower back. Her face is tucked into his neck and she breathes shakily. 

Thankfully, the food is already done, so he doesn't have to pull away. It's rare for Parker to seek out comfort like this. She only does it when she's genuinely distraught, and she's only recently opened up enough to allow him to help. 

Eliot holds her until there's a knock on the door, then he gently pulls away, brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. She looks up at him with a little furrow in her eyebrow, moving forward to brush her lips over his as he starts to back away. It's a short kiss, almost innocent, but it makes Eliot's chest tighten like his lungs are being seized. 

"Hardison's here," Parker whispers against his mouth, the words more of a breath than anything. 

Eliot leans back, nodding. "You good?" 

"I'm fine," she says, and he wonders if she picked up that bullshit line from him. 

There's nothing he can do about it now, so he squeezes her arm as he heads to the door. He takes a deep breath, trying to get into a better headspace, then he opens the door. Hardison smiles at him brightly, but that smile falters instantly. 

"Hey, you okay?" Hardison asks, looking at him in blatant concern. 

Eliot scowls. "I'm fine," he growls roughly. "Are you coming in or not?" 

"Jesus," Hardison mutters, widening his eyes and holding his hands up in surrender. He shakes his head but brushes past Eliot to enter the room. He's got his laptop bag with him and he looks a little uncertain. "Are you sure--" 

"We're fine," Eliot says more firmly, shutting the door and waving Hardison towards the little kitchenette he's become intimately familiar with. 

Parker turns towards him with a small smile. "We were worried you wouldn't like the Spaghetti Pompadora," she says softly. 

"Spaghetti Pomodoro," Eliot corrects. 

Hardison blinks. "Oh, no need to be worried, girl. I'm gonna tear that shit  _ up."  _

Parker cracks a more genuine smile and Eliot finds himself echoing it without meaning to. He's not particularly surprised; Hardison tends to have that effect on them. 

Eliot walks around the counter to pull plates down to get dinner served before he can do something stupid like full-on grin as the muscles in his face urge him to. Parker isn't helpful and doesn't get out of his way, but he's used to that, so he works around her like he always has. He used to be wary of touching her, not willing to make her uncomfortable, but they're close enough now that he doesn't think twice about it. Just small brushes against her as he moves past, squeezing her knee as he leans around her, carelessly sliding her to the right by her hip when she's in the way. Parker always seems pleased by it. 

"You know," Hardison says, sounding oddly choked up, like there's emotion stuck in his throat, "I never did ask. How long have you two been a couple?" 

Parker hums. "Eliot and I have been together for two years now," she says lightly. 

Technically, it's not a lie. It's been two years since the first job they ever worked together, the one that had ended with them on the same team. It's been a  _ long  _ two years, but Eliot doesn't regret one moment of it. He won't ever say it, but he's most thankful for meeting Parker, even if they've only recently reached a point where they're close. 

"I can tell," Hardison murmurs faintly, looking down at his shoes and blinking hard. 

Parker frowns at Eliot, clearly at a loss, and Eliot's not sure what to say, so he shrugs helplessly and starts plating their dinner. Parker makes a sound of frustration and bluntly says, "You're upset. Why?" 

Hardison clears his throat. "I guess it just hit me that I might be intruding on y'all." 

Eliot's head snaps up. "What? No--no, you're not. Hardison, we're glad you're here." 

"We're better with you here," Parker agrees. 

And that…  _ that  _ is very true. Eliot's stomach clenches. 

"You mean that." Hardison looks up at them, his eyes flicking between them curiously. "You really do." 

They don't respond, but Hardison smiles soft and slow like he sees the answer in their silence. He's a gifted man if he's capable of understanding them so easily, and Eliot's ashamed to admit that it frightens and excites him in equal measure. Parker gets him because she's like him, just as he gets her because he's like her. They've never had someone understand them who's...good. 

Eliot grunts to break the tender moment, slamming the plates down on the table a few steps away. He scowls and waves them over while he starts pouring the wine. Hardison doesn't have to be told twice; he ambles over with his usual easy-going grin, rubbing his hands together like he's excited. Parker joins him at the table, eyes glazing over as she takes in a deep breath, smelling Eliot's food and sighing in pleasure. Eliot sits down and hides his smile into his glass. 

Despite all of Parker's anxiety, Hardison  _ loves  _ dinner. 

They eat and Hardison sings his praises while Parker says nothing, which is a compliment from her. When she really likes his food, she doesn't speak and eats with her eyes closed, focusing as hard as she can to appreciate every flavor. It's one of Eliot's favorite things about her. Ironically enough, the way Hardison can't seem to shut up about how good the food tastes is one of Eliot's favorite things about him. 

By the end of dinner, they're all full and casually drifting into calm conversation. It's light and safe, a feeling Eliot's not exactly accustomed to. He wants to enjoy it in its entirety, but that's not his strong suit, so he stands up to quickly wash dishes while Hardison and Parker's murmuring washes over him. Eliot stands at the sink and wonders when the last time he truly relaxed was, because it's happening now and it feels very new. 

They eventually drift over to the shitty couch, and Eliot pauses by the counter to stare at them. Parker is on the right side with Hardison in the middle, their bodies flush together like its natural, and Hardison's long arms are stretched over the back of the couch in a way that looks too inviting. Eliot digs his fingernails into his palms and counts to ten, breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth. Okay. He can do this. Okay. 

"We watchin' a movie?" he asks gruffly as he plops into the open space on Hardison's left side. 

Hardison gives a lazy shrug. "Yeah, if y'all want. But I actually wanted to--" 

"We should kiss," Parker interrupts. "All of us." 

Hardison chokes on air. "Uh, I mean--" 

"Do you want to?" Eliot asks, more curious than he's willing to admit. 

It's out there now, nothing he can do about it. He'd be lying if he tried to pretend that he doesn't want to, which means he definitely shouldn't allow it to happen. But for all of Eliot's endless training in restraint and holding out in the face of torture, he knows he won't be able to stop himself if the opportunity presents itself. 

"If--if y'all want to, but if you don't--" 

Parker shuts him up before he can finish. How she does that is with her own mouth. It's funny actually, because she slings her leg over Hardison's knees and settles herself in his lap so she has a better vantage point, and then--with a determined expression--she hauls off and kisses him right on the mouth. 

Hardison's right arm drops and lifts to grab her hip as if he needs something to hold onto, but that's all the contact he initiates. He lets Parker kiss him, kisses her back with his eyes fluttering shut, and it's so heartbreakingly pretty that Eliot's rendered silent at the sight of it. Hardison's left hand curls into Eliot's shoulder, holding on tight, like he's holding on for dear life, and Eliot can't rip his eyes from the sight of their mouths moving in tandem. 

Parker pulls back, blinking rapidly. "Oh, that's very nice," she says, looking over at Eliot. "It's like kissing you. You should try it." 

Eliot can't imagine that he and Hardison kiss anything alike; their mouths are very different, after all. But he thinks he gets what Parker means, that kissing Hardison makes her feel the same way she does when she kisses him. For some reason, that warms Eliot straight to his core. 

"Y'all gonna kill me," Hardison says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out a bit rough. "But hey, I guess I'll die happy." 

Eliot can't help it, he snorts. Shaking his head, he leans over and up, stretching slightly to press his lips to Hardison's. He wants to, and it would look weird if he didn't, and anyway, Hardison kisses him back, so who cares? 

Kissing Hardison is just like knowing Hardison. He's a warm person with a spark of something playful, full of determination and still so,  _ so  _ damn gentle. Kissing him is much the same; it's simultaneously the hardest and easiest thing Eliot's ever done. It feels like an indulgence, like Eliot's allowing himself things he doesn't deserve, but he's drawn in so effortlessly that it doesn't matter. Hardison uses his left hand to tangle his fingers into the back of Eliot's hair, not holding him there, but guiding him. Parker makes happy noises. 

Eliot could do this all night,  _ wants  _ to, which is precisely why he pulls away. Parker hums in approval and steals his breath yet again by sinking to the side to take over where Hardison left off. Eliot can hear himself make a small sound that he hasn't heard escape him in a long time--a whine, almost, but with some growl to it--and he just doesn't  _ care.  _

Hardison keeps his hand in Eliot's hair, guiding him through the kiss with Parker, and that's--shit, that's  _ something.  _ Eliot makes the noise again. 

Parker pulls back, her breathing ever so slightly out of sync. "Let's do this all night," she demands. 

In this moment, in the particular state he's in, Eliot has absolutely no objections to that. Hardison doesn't seem to have any either. So, Parker smiles wide and happy as they give her what she's asked for. 

Eventually, they do stop. It takes a while, but they do reach a point where the kisses have turned into leisurely pecks, and it's just as easy to break apart. The atmosphere is light, content, simple. Parker has her head resting on Hardison's chest, her fingers threaded through Eliot's, and Hardison is carding his fingers through Eliot's hair. 

Eliot could fall asleep like this. 

Until, "Oh yeah, I had something I wanted to do." 

Eliot scowls immediately, put out when Hardison sits up like he's just been struck with a bolt of lightning. Parker reflects his look of annoyance at the peace being shattered, which shouldn't be as amusing as it is. Hardison ignores them and wriggles off the couch, setting Parker aside and drawing his arm back from behind Eliot, effortlessly reminding them that he's a separate thing entirely. 

"Whatever it is, it better be good," Eliot snaps. 

Hardison grabs his laptop bag and throws a grin over his shoulder. "Oh, it is." 

Parker curls into Eliot's side, goosebumps rising on her skin, and it takes him a moment to realize that she's cold. He wraps an arm around her, doing his best to share body heat while she says, "What is it?" 

"Remember when I said I'd teach y'all some tech stuff?" Hardison asks brightly, moving over to the couch to open the computer. He looks at them with a fond expression. "Figured now is as good a time as any. Whaddya say? Ready to be schooled?" 

Eliot's heart drops as realization strikes. Sophie's voice drifts through his head, intrusive and serious,  _ a man who starts dating someone might say that he'll show them something important to him--doesn't matter what--and the day that he does...that's when he's in love, even if he doesn't know it. It's suggesting a future early on, and once he sees one for sure, he makes it reality. _

Parker looks like someone's cancelled Christmas, and honestly, Eliot can relate. 

Hardison seems to have no idea. 

Hook, line, and sinker. 

* * *

"Everything we have on Hawthorn is on this file. It's all we got, so be careful with it." Nate taps the file and slides it over the tabletop. "You're going to tell him that Hawthorn's assistant gave it to you." 

Sophie smirks as she leans forward in her seat, fingers threaded together on the counter. "I've never spoken to Hardison, but we've worked in proximity often. He sees the way Hawthorn treats me and usually comments on it. And since I don't reply, he spends a lot of time talking to fill the silence. You've certainly managed to hook him; he spends majority of the time talking about the both of you." 

"Why would he believe that you gave us this?" Parker asks, nodding at the file. 

"Because he knows that  _ I  _ know you'll show it to him in a fit of anger, meaning he'll be forced to do something about it." Sophie smiles like a cat who's trapped a very fickle canary. "He can tell that I hate Hawthorn and knows I can't stop him. And he knows that I'm aware that  _ he  _ can, so what better way than to exploit the people he's all googly-eyed over?" 

Eliot shakes his head. "This doesn't make sense, Nate. It feels like we're putting all  _ our  _ eggs in one basket." 

"You said not to do that," Parker accuses. 

Nate sighs. "There are only two cons we can run on Hawthorn. One involving Hardison's help, which is ideal. Or, one where Hardison isn't there to stop us. This is really the only choice we have; if it doesn't work, we have one more shot. We need this to work." 

Parker sighs quietly. "Why can't we just ask him? He'd help us if we asked." 

"At this point, he'll just be hurt if he finds out that you two were conning him," Sophie says gently, eyeing Parker sadly. "It'll make him want to help less. And we certainly couldn't have asked from the beginning; we had nothing to offer him." 

"Hardison is  _ good,"  _ Parker insists firmly. 

Eliot says nothing because he agrees. 

"Need I remind you both, Hawthorn is planning to make hundreds, if not  _ thousands,  _ sick for his own personal gain," Nate says sharply. "It doesn't matter what Hardison  _ might  _ do. What we have now is a near guarantee that he's going to do what we need him to. So, see that it gets done." 

"I don't like it," Parker whispers, looking down at the tabletop with her eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm with her on this one," Eliot admits gruffly, staring down at his own scarred hands. "I got a bad feeling about this one, Nate." 

Nate leans back in his chair, and when Eliot glances up, he's staring between them curiously. "Is it the con you're both objecting to, or did you somehow manage to  _ care  _ about what Hardison feels?" 

Eliot goes tense at the insinuation that he's allowed feelings to cloud his judgement, to get in the way of the job. He frowns and looks at Parker, who seems equally stiff. She looks put out at the mere idea of caring about anything; Eliot understands that deeply. They both glare at Nate. 

"We'll get it done." 

* * *

Hardison looks at the file with a troubled expression, his shoulders drooping. "Shit," he murmurs, swiping a hand over his mouth. 

"You didn't know?" Eliot asks, hoping that he didn't, hoping that he'll fix this. 

"I knew he was doing some fucked up stuff, but I wasn't aware of--  _ Jesus."  _ Hardison looks genuinely distraught, laying the file out flat with shaking hands. "Where did you get this?" 

"Hawthorn's assistant gave it to us," Parker says with a frown. "Hardison, if Hawthorn does this, Eliot will lose the company. We'll go in debt. You can't help him. It's--it isn't right." 

Hardison looks between them. "His assistant?" 

"Yes," Eliot says with a sharp nod. "She mumbled somethin' about you helping him get away with it, but you--you wouldn't do that. Right?" 

"He's horrible," Parker tells him, scowling. "He'll ruin so many lives. It doesn't matter how much he pays you. No amount of money is worth it." 

"No, you're right." Hardison reaches up to sweep a broad hand over his head, lips tipped down at the corners. "He is horrible." 

"You'll stop him?" Eliot asks, leaning forward to search his gaze, waiting for something. 

Hardison stares back, swallowing. "I'll do what needs to be done," he says, and it's the truth. 

Eliot relaxes back into his seat and breathes a sigh of relief, not even jolting when Parker takes his hand. They share a quick look, one that speaks volumes, and things might be okay after all. They know Hardison, know he's good to his core, know he'll do his part to take Hawthorn down. It doesn't make them feel better about what they're doing to him, but it will save multiple lives, so that's what matters. 

Two wrongs don't make a right, but in this case, it kind of does. Many of the people who'll get sick from Hawthorn's diseased food won't be able to afford his medicine; they'll  _ die.  _ If conning Hardison and inevitably breaking his heart puts a stop to that, then it needs to be done. 

"Thank you," Parker murmurs, still staring at Eliot. She blinks at him, something flickering in her gaze, something he doesn't fully understand. Still looking at Eliot, she says, "You deserve good things. We can give you good things. Let us." 

And Eliot gets it. Like a slap to the face, he  _ gets it.  _ He'd said it before--not that far, Parker--and he'd meant it. Nowhere in this con is sex of any sort required, even kissing isn't necessary, but that's exactly what Parker is suggesting. She's looking at him, asking him so many questions--if he wants to, if he's okay with it, if it will make things worse. Eliot doesn't have the answer to the last one, but he hates that the other two are a resounding  _ yes.  _

Eliot looks at Hardison, squeezing Parker's hand in a grip that's probably too tight. "She's right," he rasps out. "We can make you feel good. You deserve it." 

Hardison's eyes sink closed. "Can I just-- No sex. Is it okay if I just stay here tonight? Sleep with you?" 

"Is that what you want?" Parker asks, tilting her head like she doesn't fully understand why  _ that's  _ what Hardison craves. 

"Yeah, if--if that's okay." Hardison opens his eyes and smiles weakly. "Won't say no to a kiss or ten." 

Eliot snorts. "Yeah, that's feasible." 

"There's time before bed," Parker chirps easily, crossing her legs in her chair and smiling brightly at them both. It's only then that Eliot realizes how tense she had been. "What do you want to do?" 

"I want to show y'all something," Hardison says, flashing them a smile as he leans down to dig out his laptop from his bag. "I know I showed y'all some stuff before, basics, but there's something else. It's a little advanced, and maybe you won't get it at first, but it can be really helpful." 

Eliot sits up straight and pays attention. Technology isn't his strong suit by a long shot, but he's not going to miss an opportunity to learn from the best--he's not an  _ idiot.  _ Well, not all the time. Parker, like Eliot, knows a good deal when she sees one and leans forward to focus on Hardison. 

"What is it?" Parker asks. 

Hardison's lips twitch. "Not everything has a fancy name, Parker, you know that, right?" 

When Parker's face falls, Eliot growls out, "Then make one  _ up,  _ Hardison." 

"Fine." Hardison looks between them and stops typing, the room filling with sudden silence. He smiles small and amused, eyes bright with some kind of emotion Eliot can't actually identify. "Let's call it the Clean Slate." 

"Sounds weird," Parker tells him. 

"It's not," Hardison assures her. "Now, look at this." 

It's a long process, mostly because Eliot and Parker don't fully understand what's going on. Hardison's patient, however, and he works with them like it's the single most important thing he'll ever do. It takes hours of explanation, trial and error, fits of anger and much needed breaks, but Hardison walks them through it step-by-step. He's completely in his element, completely at ease, and he looks like he  _ needs  _ to share this with him. That's probably why they refuse to give up. 

Really, it's not that hard once Eliot gets it. It's going into a server and wiping everything out, down to the very last scrap, leaving nothing behind, not even a trace. Sure, it's complicated and hard to do when it's not  _ their  _ server and there's no delete button, but Eliot can definitely see how it can come in handy. The process leaves no back-ups and collapses all connections to any other accounts as easily as Eliot can break fingers. It makes everything born from the server, even sent out and spread, disappear just as smoothly as Parker can shape her body around lasers. In its own way, the entire thing is exhilarating. 

Hardison looks pleased when they both can do it for the most part, then--and only then--he releases them from the torture of hacking. Eliot's brain hurts and Parker twitches like she'd like to lose herself to a freefall, so they decide to call it a night. 

"I'm not sleepy, but it's bedtime," Parker informs them seriously. "We should lay down." 

Hardison grins. "About those kisses…" 

Eliot is far too happy to indulge. He's relieved, he can't help it. Sure, there's a feeling deep down that suggests he's done something dirty, but for now, he's going to ignore that, if only to keep from stressing Parker out. He reminds himself that things have worked out, that there's no need to be so...bothered. 

Eliot knows why he is, knows that Parker feels the same. They haven't talked about what will happen when Hawthorn goes down. The con will be over, both of them, and Hardison will have definitely found out who and what they are by then. This very well may be the last night that they're all okay, depending on how fast Hardison moves. And after… 

Well, that's the part they don't know for sure. Nate originally had wanted to sway Hardison to join their team, but it's gone unspoken that it probably won't be happening  _ now.  _ Parker won't say it, and Eliot will  _ never  _ admit it, but they'll miss him if he leaves. And it's a safe assumption that he'll go, no doubt upset about being conned. Hardison will be out of their lives, just like that, and they have no idea what they're going to feel about that. 

There's also their own relationship to consider. Before Hardison, they never got this close. Sure, they're  _ close,  _ but they didn't have something unspoken sitting between them. Parker looks at him now, watches him, considers him. She touches him as often as she can, hangs around him like she wants to be near, even talks to him about things she never did. Eliot has always been attracted to Parker, but he never considered her before Hardison. He pushed her away, demanded his space, treated her almost coldly when she didn't always deserve it. Now, it's like all of that has flipped on its head. 

Hardison is undoubtedly to blame for that, but when he goes, will he take that with him? Eliot doesn't want to lose the connection he has with Parker, the one Hardison helped ignite, but he's not sure it'll keep burning without him. Actually, Eliot doesn't think any variation of them would work without all of them; crazy as it is, it's just not  _ right  _ without it. The bond is a loop between the three of them, and it eats Eliot up inside that one part of it is fake. 

"Eliot?" Parker asks, staring at him with a small smile, making him blink rapidly. 

Eliot nods. "Kissing, right. On the bed." 

The three of them move to the bed, crawling over the covers to sprawl out with Hardison in the middle. He melts between them, grinning like he's just gotten everything he's ever wanted, and Eliot's traitorous heart  _ hurts.  _ Parker barrels right over that, probably avoiding feelings of her own, and she kisses Hardison first. Eliot watches, can see how intense it is, notices how Parker looks like she could cry. His heart twists sharply at the sight, betraying him still. 

Hardison kisses her back, deep and slow, like he's trying to convey something in the contact. Eliot can pick up on it, knows it's  _ I love you  _ the same way he knows how torture feels. Maybe Parker notices it, maybe she doesn't; either way, she curls in closer and clings like she rarely does. 

It's Hardison who pulls back, and he opens his mouth like he's actually going to say it, and Eliot can't let him unknowingly hurt Parker like that. He reaches out and grasps Hardison's chin, tugging him around to kiss him, to swallow those words before they can do any damage. Hardison kisses him back fiercely, pressing those words into his mouth without even uttering a sound, meaning them just as much as he did when he'd told Parker with a kiss. 

Eliot breaks away, barely holding onto the whimper clogging his throat. This hurts far more than it should, far more than any horror he's faced, and it's not  _ fair.  _ None of this is fair. 

Hardison scoots back and reaches up to cradle Parker's cheek in one hand, Eliot's in the other. He looks between them, softly says, "I need y'all to know that I've  _ never  _ felt about anyone the way I feel about you two. There are things that y'all don't know, and one day you will, but remember this. No matter what I seem like, please don't forget who I am right now." 

Eliot grits his teeth and forces himself not to make a sound. He knows Hardison is scared they'll hate him if they find out he's a hacker. And  _ god,  _ Eliot wishes that was the only problem here. They'd forgive that in a heartbeat, both of them. 

Parker looks at him, blinking hard around the sheen of tears in her eyes, staring at him intently. He knows, and she knows, this is it. This is all they're going to get; after this, it's all over. They won't talk about it, and they won't deal with it, and they'll have to live with the knowledge that they somehow found the best thing that could ever happen to them, only to willingly sabotage it. 

There's nothing to say back, nothing they can say that will make this right or easier, so they don't speak. Parker leans forward to kiss Eliot, saying nothing and everything with the press of her mouth, and Eliot lets it happen. He's selfish enough to take it, to take all of it, whatever he can get. If this is all he has, he'll take as much as he can. 

The three of them kiss well on into the night, hungry and desperate like they all have something to lose, and they all kind of do. 

Eliot's reluctant to sleep, and Parker seems to agree, but Hardison tries to help them relax. He says he wants them to drift in his arms because he's a romantic like that, so they work to give him what he wants. They close their eyes, they listen to him tell them a story from his childhood, and they drift. It's the most peaceful they're ever going to get. 

Sometime later, Eliot half-wakes up to Hardison pulling away from him. He mumbles something, he's not sure what, and tries to pull Hardison back to the bed, not even fully conscious. Parker snores quietly, Hardison says something about the bathroom, and Eliot goes back to sleep with the feeling of lips brushing his forehead. 

When they wake up, the file is gone, and there's a note in its place, reading: 

_ I'm sorry.  _

* * *

"He played us! He--he fucking played us, Nate!" 

"Eliot," Sophie says carefully, "calm down." 

"No! No, I won't calm down," Eliot snaps, pacing like a caged animal. "Everything, all of it, is  _ gone.  _ You said he was on the hook. You  _ said--"  _

"I made a mistake," Sophie says sharply, sitting up straight in her seat. "He must have known who you both were from the start, and he--" 

"--played us," Parker says in a croak, blinking slowly, her expression blank. 

Eliot's stomach twists in knots. "I'm gonna kill him." 

"He's probably long gone by now," Nate mutters over the comms. "If he's smart, you won't be able to find even a trace of him for a long time." 

"It better be forever because I'm not forgetting this for as long as I'm breathin'," Eliot vows, clenching and unclenching his fists. 

"Let him go." Parker slowly looks up, looks right at Eliot. "Please, just--just let him go." 

"Parker…" Eliot trails off as her eyes well up with tears. His heart pangs as she swallows like it hurts. 

"We felt  _ things,  _ Eliot," Parker murmurs, standing up to draw close to him. "I know we did. He--he made us feel things, and maybe it was just him playing us, but I think he felt things too." 

This is where they diverged, where their differences came into play. Eliot wants to hunt Hardison down for daring to make him feel things, but Parker wants to thank him for it. 

"Well, we're going to have to put a pin in that. Looks like Hardison isn't as smart as I expected him to be," Nate abruptly mutters. His voice raises as he suddenly addresses someone. "Well, I did not expect you to still be here." 

"Like I'd get very far. I know what Eliot can do," Hardison's voice breaks through, the sound of his snort crackling slightly over the line. 

Eliot goes stiff and Parker's chest expands on a sharp inhale. Nate hums, collected as ever. "How long did you know who they were?" 

"From the very first meeting," Hardison admits. 

"I thought you said he was a bad grifter," Sophie snaps, chewing on her thumbnail. 

"He--he is. Or I thought he was," Parker mutters. 

"You played them," Nate comments calmly. 

Hardison sighs heavily. "Yeah, I did. I'm sure Eliot's having a field day imagining all the ways he's going to make me pay for that, but it's not what you think, what any of you think." 

"Tell me, Hardison, if it's not you effectively running a con on my crew, what is it?" Nate asks, his voice going cold with threat. 

"It wasn't a con." Hardison sounds quiet and sad, his words cracking slightly. "I'm not a grifter; I--I can't do things like that. I oversell it." 

"You didn't this time." 

"It was real. I mean, at first, I was just trying to figure out how to stay alive. But then, I realized y'all were running a con on  _ me,  _ so I just… I let it happen. And--and it worked. It really did." 

Nate tuts lightly. "In that case, why was it you who ended up leaving with the file?" 

"Because I'm good at what I do. That stuff with Eliot and Parker? That was… Well, for  _ me,  _ it was real. I genuinely am attracted to them, I really do like them, and all the things I said, they're true." Hardison is silent for a moment. "But breaking their hearts wasn't as bad as letting little kids  _ die."  _

Eliot's eyes snap open and he's not sure when he closed them. His head whips around to Parker, their gazes locking. This is… God, there's some kind of hope burning bright in Eliot's chest that he wants to snuff out, that's reflected in Parker's eyes. 

It's like he's said the magic words. Nate immediately sucks in a sharp breath and asks, "What do you mean? What little kids?" 

"There's an orphanage that Hawthorn has been making donations to for the past two months. It's how he's keeping me on the hook." Hardison sounds angry, like he's trying not to yell. "If I don't help him, he's going to release the diseased food to the kids as a publicity stunt. People will come  _ rushing  _ to buy the new stuff, and--and they'll all get sick. Except, the little kids won't have people to buy them the medicine. I know you, Nate Ford, I've heard the things you've done, but this man… Marcus Hawthorn is evil, man. Just--just really evil." 

"You don't think I can take him down." Nate's voice is tight, shaking with restrained anger, no doubt pissed about the new knowledge. 

"I think you'll try," Hardison says carefully. "But man, he's got so many back up plans that he's pretty much ensured he'll get away with this. And--and I wasn't going to help him, even when he offered money, but he promised not to release the food to the kids if I made sure he'd leave this unscathed." 

"You're being blackmailed to cover for him," Nate murmurs, his voice taking on that floaty quality it does when he's working a problem. 

Hardison sighs. "Yeah, but I ain't doing it. You--you have to know that. I need you to tell Eliot and Parker that. I'm making sure it'll all be traced back to him, so he's definitely going to jail for it. But I can't--I don't have the ability to stop him from  _ doing it."  _

"They can hear you," Nate informs him distractedly, and there's the sound of him tapping the comms. "They're listening right now." 

Hardison sounds like he's choking, and Eliot reached up to tuck his hair behind his ears. Parker curls into the corner of the couch, pressing her mouth to her knees. They wait for Hardison to say something,  _ anything,  _ but he doesn't. 

"Alright," Nate continues, "you're making sure he's going down for it, that's good. But tell me, why did you take the file?" 

"Y'all can't have it," Hardison replies warily. "If Hawthorn catches even a  _ hint  _ of that information being leaked before I've made sure he's behind bars, he'll have that food processed and sent out before I can figure out how to stop it. I--I can't risk that." 

Nate hums thoughtfully. "They're right about you. You are a good man." 

"They--they said that?" Hardison mutters, sounding simultaneously nervous and hopeful. 

"Have they started processing the food yet?" Nate asks, not bothering to answer. 

"No, he was going to, but the construction on the office delayed it. Plus, there's some guy sniffing around trying to buy the company." 

"That would be me." 

"Wait, you're Mr. Poppadocalis?" Hardison blurts out, and Eliot can hear the smile in his voice. "That's a name, lemme tell ya." 

"Hardison," Nate says firmly, keeping him on the right track, "where are his plans for the food?" 

"If it was all just online, I would have erased it before he could have thought twice, but he keeps a hard copy somewhere." 

"We could steal it." 

Hardison snorts. "Yeah, maybe, but it's not like he'll just...forget about it. He'll draw up the plans again and release them." 

"You're fairly smart too," Nate comments, as if he's considering buying a new car. 

"Hell yeah, I am," Hardison quips easily, completely missing Nate's tone. "Age of the geek, baby." 

"Alright, I have a plan." Nate clears his throat and is silent for a moment. "You're going to help." 

"Like hell I am. Did I not mention the little kids--" 

"No, you're not going to do anything you haven't been doing this entire time." 

"Oh," Hardison mutters in confusion. "Yo, Nate, are you always this cryptic?" 

Nate chuckles. "My team says I am, so it seems that way. Now, this is what I'm going to need you to do--" 

"Woah, woah,  _ woah.  _ What makes you think I'm going to help you at all? You had Parker and Eliot  _ con me.  _ That's not cool, man," Hardison says sharply. 

"What makes me think that?" Nate sounds entirely too amused. "Well, for one, they actually managed to con you, despite the fact that you were aware they were doing it. You do love them, don't you?" 

Hardison doesn't reply. 

"Right," Nate continues, "so you're going to help. Not only because you want Hawthorn to go down and be stopped, but because you have a soft spot for two members of my team." 

"That just ain't right," Hardison mutters. "I don't need this. I could be in Paris right now, you know that? Eatin' me some damn fancy baguettes and flirting with people wearin' them hats, you know the ones. Not the stripe shirts, though, never liked those, and I won't just--" 

"Hardison," Nate interrupts, exasperated, "will you help us, or not?" 

There's a beat, then Hardison smacks his teeth. "Fine, I'll help. Just this once." 

"Of course," Nate replies, like he's indulging a screaming toddler. "I never doubted you. After all, they say you can't con a conman, and I think you've managed to prove that statement wrong. There's also a statement that says those in power stay in power; prove that one wrong too." 

"Man, you are really creepy." 

"Funny, my team says that too." 

* * *

Eliot can't believe this is happening. Well, he can. Sort of. It's not like he hasn't considered it before now, even secretly wished it would happen, but he's never actually expected it. 

"Parker, are you in position?" Nate asks. 

"Yes," Parker replies tersely. 

Nate hums. "Eliot?" 

"Ready," Eliot growls out. 

"Hardison?" Nate continues. 

There's a pause, then, "Doing my thing, man, doing my thing." 

Eliot still isn't used to having Hardison's voice in his ear like this. It's too much like he's in the crew, even if he's not, and it grates on all of Eliot's nerves. He feels like he's itching out of his skin. He wants to punch someone, anyone,  _ now.  _

They're in the middle of a con, so it's not exactly something he can do, but he aches for it. 

Nate's voice drifts over the line, talking Hawthorn into screwing himself over, and Eliot relaxes into it. The con is simple from here on out. 

Convince Hawthorn that his company is going under  _ immediately  _ rather than in a few months time, courtesy of Sophie's fantastic acting. Have Hawthorn shift his remaining money from the company into a sole account to protect it from being drained, an account courtesy of Hardison. Buy Hawthorn's company from underneath him with his own money, courtesy of Nate. Pretend to steal Hawthorn's poison plans from the safe, courtesy of Parker. And then, when Hawthorn panics and releases those plans anyway, he'll be sending them right to his own insurance company, courtesy of Hardison. The police will sweep in, Hawthorn will claim that someone else did it, and he'll allow them to search his office, including his safe, because he thinks the file is stolen. He'll be wrong, and that… 

Well, that's bankruptcy and five plus years in prison. 

Eliot's sole role in this con is playing three different people. The guy from the bank who helps Hawthorn believe the company is going under. The  _ other  _ guy from the bank who helps Hawthorn shift his money into the right account. And the cop who locates the safe and asks to check it. That's it. That simple. 

There are, of course, a couple of snags. About halfway into the con, when Hawthorn's company gets bought with his own money, Hardison's voice nervously breaks over the comms. 

"Uh, guys," he says, "remember how Eliot took down that guy who was following me that one day?" 

Eliot leans up against his car and blinks, looking up at the building. "You knew about that?" he asks sharply, frowning. 

"Well, I kinda had an idea. A guy was following me, you disappeared, then he wasn't following me anymore. Not impossible to work out." 

"Whatever. What's the point?" 

"Yeah, well, that's not the only muscle that Hawthorn hired," Hardison says, his voice raising in pitch and shaking with nerves. "I'm on  _ Hawthorn's  _ computer; this guy is gonna kill me!" 

Eliot's moving before Nate can even give the order. He's got a badge around his neck, he's dressed like a detective, and he's striding in with a scowl on his face. No one fucks with him. Rightfully so. 

It takes him entirely too long to reach the floor Hawthorn's office is on. He can hear Nate talking, hear Hawthorn reaching the panic stages, hear the quiet sounds of Hardison rapidly typing away on the keyboard. Then, he hears the sound of a door bursting open, Hardison yelping in surprise, and Eliot's running before he knows it. 

"Woah, hey, man. Chill out, we can--hey!" Hardison makes a loud sound of distress. "That came  _ way  _ too close to my face. That ain't cool, that's-- What did I  _ just  _ say? Jesus!" 

Hardison doesn't get to say much else because Eliot abruptly darts into the office, shutting the door and yanking the overly tall guy back from Hardison in one smooth motion. They lumbering goon whirls around with a snarl on his lips and he frowns as soon as he looks down and sees Eliot. 

"Hey," Eliot says calmly, then strikes. 

It takes less than two minutes before the guy is slumped against the wall, out cold, and Hardison gapes at him in shock. "That was…" Hardison blinks rapidly. "...so hot." 

Eliot glares at him and jerks a hand to the computer, lips twisting as he growls, "Dammit, Hardison! Do the damn thing!" 

Hardison clears his throat and gets back to work while Eliot paces the length of the room. He tries to keep from looking at Hardison, but it's damn near impossible. They haven't been in the same room since the night Hardison left, and things are too tense for him to really filter out. Eliot wants to touch him, make sure he's okay, or maybe hit him. He doesn't know, but whichever it is, he refrains. 

"To be fair," Parker comments lightly, "it  _ is  _ hot when you do that, Eliot." 

"Thank you for your input, Parker," Eliot snaps sarcastically. "Just shut up and do your damn job." 

Things go smoothly from there. Right up until they do not. Hawthorn, like the idiot he is, makes a break for it. Eliot, who's playing a cop, chases him. The other cops follow, but they don't know the building like Eliot or Hawthorn does, so they lose them both. Parker drops down from a vent and joins in the chase with a bright grin, like she's having the time of her life. And maybe she is. 

Hawthorn doesn't try to leave, is the thing. No, he heads to his office. Eliot leads Parker a different route that takes a little longer but will cut him off when he exits with whatever it is he's went back for. 

The problem with  _ that  _ is...Hardison's in there. He's not supposed to be; he was supposed to leave by now. It becomes apparent that he stuck around for some reason or another when Hawthorn is leading him out into the hall with a gun pointed at his face. Hardison looks genuinely scared, which means he's smart, and Eliot makes Parker duck down out of sight. 

"What the hell are you doing, man?" Hardison asks warily, swallowing thickly. 

Hawthorn scowls at him. "You think I'm going to just--just  _ let this go.  _ I told you, I won't be conned by a lousy thief!" 

"Technically, you were conned by  _ five  _ lousy thieves, but do go on," Hardison taunts. 

"You forget, Hardison, I have a few tech skills of my own," Hawthorn grits out. "I'm going to release the plans on my server  _ anyway.  _ Let the cops find it, I don't care. By the time they do, the lunch ladies at that orphanage will already be serving it to the kids. And you know who I'll ask them to thank?  _ You."  _

Hardison goes stiff, face drawn and shuttered with pure fury, jaw tightening. His words, harsh and cold, are at odds with his expression. "Well, damn, I sure wish I could have a clean slate. A  _ clean slate  _ would really help me right now. A Clean Slate would solve literally all my problems at the moment." 

It takes a moment to click, but when it does, Eliot and Parker share a quick look. They slowly slink their way into Hawthorn's office, sneaking in silently behind them, and Hardison doesn't even glance at them because he's good. They hunch down behind the computer, look at each other one more time, and then they get to work. 

They have limited time because Hardison has to keep Hawthorn talking, and this isn't exactly a walk in the park for them. They switch back and forth, working together to ruin even more of Hawthorn's plans, doing just as Hardison taught them. Nate and Sophie bicker over the comms, walking Hardison through techniques to keep Hawthorn talking and not shooting him. Everything within Eliot wants to go out there and rip Hawthorn in half, but Parker can't do this without him, and Hardison is  _ asking.  _

Then, just like that, everything's gone. There's nothing but the hard copy and the copies the insurance company has. Hawthorn has no leverage, and Eliot is free to go out there and possibly kill him. 

He doesn't kill him, though the urge is there. Instead, he knocks the gun away while Hardison ducks down and the rest of the cops come running. Now, he's got premeditated attempted murder as a charge as well, and he looks like he knows it as handcuffs clip over his wrists. Eliot sheds himself of his jacket, pulls his hair down, and smirks as Hawthorn's eyes widen with recognition. Nate and Sophie come walking up the hallway and halt beside Parker, Hardison, and Eliot. Together, they watch as Hawthorn starts sputtering about how they're the criminals, smirking as he's dragged away. 

Just like that, the con is over. 

* * *

"You know," Sophie says casually, "we have quite the place back home where we plan jobs." 

Hardison fingers the glass in his hands and clears his throat as he looks up. "Is that right? Lemme guess, that's where y'all planned out how to con me." 

There's an uncomfortable silence. 

"You know why we had to do that, right?" Nate asks, swallowing down a gulp of whiskey. He eyes Hardison closely. "We needed you." 

"Coulda asked," Hardison mutters. 

"Would you have said yes?" Sophie murmurs gently, her expression open and kind. 

Hardison frowns. "I don't know," he admits, clearing his throat. "I mean, I'd like to think I would have. Always wanted to work on a team, and everyone in the business knows y'all are the best. Hawthorn  _ did  _ have my hands tied, though." 

"The art gallery," Parker says abruptly, sitting up straight in her seat. "You--you knew who we were when you took us there." 

"Yeah," Hardison agrees, lips twitching. "I wanted something out that vault, but I didn't have enough time to get in before the guards made their rounds." 

"You used me," Eliot grumbles, scowling at him. 

Hardison throws him a flat look. "Like y'all wasn't using me the whole time." 

There's another uncomfortable silence. 

"We have a rule," Sophie eventually comments, offering him a self-deprecating smile. "Well, it's more of a known rule. I've broken it, but I was forgiven. You don't con your own crew." 

"I don't know what you mean," Hardison admits. 

"That's what you're worried about, isn't it? If you stick around." Nate levels him with a knowing look, dipping his head. "If you're on the team, you won't be conned again, I promise you that." 

"Nate will manipulate you," Eliot mutters. 

"Sophie will read you like a book," Parker muses. 

"But you won't be conned," Sophie assures him. 

Hardison clenches a fist and looks down at the table, exhaling sharply through his nose. "No offense, but it ain't Nate and Sophie I'm too worried about." 

Yet another uncomfortable silence. 

"Alright, Nate," Sophie says calmly, "let's go take a walk. Come on then, let the kids talk." 

Nate grimaces but allows her to pull him to his feet, waiting while she drapes her arm through his. He uses his free hand to pat Hardison's shoulder before heading to the door with Sophie. The uncomfortable silence takes their place and stretches between them. Hardison stares at his glass, Parker looks at the ceiling, and Eliot studies his scarred hands. 

Then, Parker sighs. "I don't like this." 

Eliot grunts. "Join the club." 

"Okay, so we all did not-so-nice things to each other, but  _ y'all  _ started it," Hardison mutters, raising his gaze to flick it between them in open disdain. "Ain't no one tell y'all to do all the things you did." 

"We wanted to," Parker says. 

"Look, I know y'all are a couple, and I could tell y'all were attracted to me, but there was  _ no  _ reason--" 

"Wait." Eliot reaches out and grips Hardison's wrist, staring at him. "You think Parker and I are…" 

Hardison blinks. "Together. You are, aren't you?" 

"No, Hardison, Parker and I aren't together. We never even--" Eliot throws a quick look at Parker, who just blinks at him. "Before you, we didn't have anything going on." 

"Oh," Hardison whispers, blinking rapidly. 

"You said it was...real," Parker murmurs, fiddling with a stray string on the seam of her pants, not looking at them. "Were you lying?" 

Hardison clears his throat. "No. I never lied to y'all, not once through any of it." 

Eliot thinks about Hardison kissing them both, pressing _ I love you  _ into their mouths, telling them he's never felt for anyone how he does for them. His heart starts thumping unevenly in his chest and he has to take in a steady breath. Parker finally looks up at them, watching them in consideration. 

"We knew it was wrong," Eliot admits gruffly, pulling his hand back, watching Hardison bite his lower lip. "Parker wanted to tell you, and I--I kept telling Nate I didn't like it. We knew we were doing wrong, but we still did it." 

"I knew what I was doing was wrong, taking that file after I--after all that," Hardison mumbles, averting his eyes, "but I still did it." 

"You were scared for little kids," Parker murmurs. 

Hardison nods. "And y'all were tryna save lives." 

"Look," Eliot grunts, fed-up with everyone talking around everything, ready to face rejection and get it over with, "we all did bad things for the right reasons. Whatever. Question is, you gonna come back with us or not?" 

"And if I go, what am I walking into?" Hardison spreads his hands and raises his eyebrows. "I live an uncomplicated life, man. It's lonely, sure, but my heart ain't suffering for it." 

"What do you want?" Parker asks sharply, narrowing her eyes and staring at him like he's a lock she's trying to pick open. 

Hardison chews his lip again. "Girl, if I knew the answer to that, life would be a lot easier." 

"You want us?" Eliot growls out roughly, hating the heat he can feel crawling up his neck. This isn't for a con, this is  _ real.  _

"I mean...obviously," Hardison says, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "Don't know why. You're both a mess in your own right. And yet." 

"We want you too. You know that, right? We're not Sophie; we can't grift  _ that  _ good," Parker tells him, her eyebrows wrinkling together. 

Hardison huffs a short laugh. "Yeah, I kinda worked that out. Doesn't mean  _ we'll  _ work out." 

"I  _ want  _ us to," Parker says firmly, frowning. "I--I want you to come with us." 

Eliot's heart pure  _ melts  _ in his chest, so naturally, he glares at Hardison. "You're coming." 

Hardison's eyebrows go up. "You just give her everything she wants, don't you?" 

"Like you wouldn't." 

"Oh yeah, I definitely will, but it's different coming from you. Cuter, somehow." 

"Don't call me cute," Eliot snaps. 

"Would you give me everything I wanted?" Hardison asks in amusement, eyes sparkling with delight. 

Eliot does not answer that because he's horrified to realize that the answer is yes. Parker betrays him and says, "Yes, he will." 

"Aight, what about this?" Hardison flashes them a bright grin. "What about a clean slate? Forget about the conning each other stuff and start fresh. We go from there and see how that goes." 

Parker wrinkles her nose. "No. I don't want a clean slate. This is important, this is how we met and--and became  _ us.  _ We have to remember it." 

Eliot dips his head. "She's right."

Hardison's smile doesn't falter. "Okay, that's fine too. If not a clean slate, then we got something to build off of. But, just so we're clear, there will be  _ no more  _ conning each other." 

"Right," Parker confirms. 

"Mhm," Eliot hums. 

"Then...fine." Hardison takes a deep breath and looks between them cautiously. "I'll come with you. I'll join your little team which damn well needs a hacker. And I'm the best, so y'all really lucked out." 

Eliot scoffs while Parker tosses her head back and laughs in open delight. She swivels around in her seat to lean forward and kiss Hardison, just a short peck, and Eliot's utterly enraptured by the sight. His heart taps on his rips and lets him know that he is well and truly screwed. 

"You should go tell Sophie and Nate," Parker says when she pulls back. 

Hardison clears his throat and nods. "Yeah, sure." 

He gets out of his seat, but before he leaves, he bends down and kisses Eliot. He does it hesitantly like he's not sure it will be well-received, but he grows more confident when Eliot leans into it with his eyes fluttering shut. The kiss is quick and simple, but Eliot's heart taps on his ribs more insistently. Hardison breaks away with a small smile and heads outside, looking pleased as he goes. 

"We did it." Parker turns to beam at him, her blue eyes shining with triumph. "We stole an Alec Hardison, Eliot." 

Eliot chuckles and shakes his head. "Yeah, Parker, I guess we did." 

  
As Parker leans over to kiss him too, completing the circuit, Eliot's heart keeps right on tapping and he thinks  _ yeah, yeah, I hear ya. _

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you all enjoyed this. I've never actually seen this trope before where one of the team members never actually joined from the beginning, and I sincerely hope I did it justice. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; I do love them so!
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


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